#the ending of that story also really got me

[muniimyg]

𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!yoongi (9) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

series m.list // taglist

note: sorry this update took forever !!! enj <3

//

there are words can describe how incredibly awkward you feel when you wake up.

last night—after you and yoongi crossed that unspoken line and messed around—you two ended up tangled together.

it’s strange because in between soft touches and sleepy murmurs—you actually got to know him in ways you never expected.

you recall it all.

his quiet voice filling the spaces between the darkness and your hushed breathing so you could hear every tone, every word, and every breath of his crystal clear. 

yoongi told you stories and confessions that slipped out between shallow breaths. childish yet meaningful things he probably didn’t even realize he was saying.

you remember him murmuring about the way his mom used to hold his hand when he couldn’t fall asleep as a kid, or how he swore he’d never own a fish again because when he was 11 years old... he had 14 goldfishes and they all died one by one 2 weeks later.

he swears it wasn't his fault.

you tell him you believe him.

(you really do.)

he also talks about his quiet love for early mornings, how at peace he feels when he’s the only one awake in a still-sleeping world. in that half-dazed vulnerability, yoongi let you in. 

just enough for you to see a side of him you hadn’t expected, a part that was softer, quieter, more open.

then, you two talked about baby injeolmi.

how you two don't really care about the gender and just want a healthy baby. so much so that you both agreed to not know the gender and to just be surprised on the day of. oh, and how you do want a baby shower and think hye mi is already plotting that...

then, you two talked about the moving in thing again.

that's when you pretended to go to sleep and actually fell asleep. yoongi only laughed at you, fully knowing that you're just nervous. you're moving in one way or another.

he knows it.

you know it...

but aside from the way the talk ended; it went well.

no, the talk wasn’t everything…

but it was something. 

now, with the morning light filtering through the blinds, reality started to seep back in.

the familiar awkwardness of two people who shared more than they’d planned. you can feel his warmth beside you, his hand still loosely draped over your waist, and a twinge of nervousness fluttered in your stomach.

you glance at him, expecting him to be asleep. but then, his eyes blinked open, groggy but sharp enough to catch the slight flush in your cheeks. 

still half-asleep, his voice rough as he mumbles, “hi…”

for a second, neither of you move, as if lingering in that quiet, unguarded space between sleep and reality. suddenly aware of the intimacy, he clears his throat, his gaze softening but pulling back just a bit.

you offer him a shy smile, feeling the weight of everything unsaid between you.

“a-about last night…”

he chuckles softly, rubbing a hand over his face. “yeah… last night…”

then, he pauses to gather his words.

“wait, are you talking about me yapping or me sucking your tits?”

none. you’re talking about pretending to fall asleep regardless, your shy smile breaks as you burst into laughter. he joins your laughter and sighs. 

“i mean, are we gonna talk about any of it or is acknowledging it good enough for now? i don’t know if i’m awake enough for the conversation but i will be if you want to—”

“all good,” you assure him. “i don’t know where i was going with any of it. i guess i just wanted… to know if you—”

“i liked it,” he tells you, not digging any deeper. “you getting to know me, me sucking your tits—all of it.”

as promised, yoongi takes you to the baby store. 

your eyes light up the minute you step foot in it. it’s then that yoongi remembers exactly who he’s having this baby with. 

you and your fucking babyfever. 

the baby store is a mix of pastel colors, tiny clothes, and gentle lullabies playing over the speakers. yoongi trails behind you as you wander through the aisles. one hand resting on the cart as he pushes it along, his eyes constantly flicking to you with a quiet, thoughtful focus.

though you two are pretty good at communicating—the whole physical affection part? that’s still a little wonky. for instance, every time you pause to examine something, yoongi is right there, his hand slipping gently around your waist to guide you to the next aisle or just to linger beside you. it’s so subtle that, at first, you think it’s an accident, a reflex. 

but then it keeps happening.

at first, it throws you off—his casual closeness.

the way he stays so near, like a shadow. you’re not used to this kind of attention from him.. this quiet and steady affection. but strangely enough, you find that you don’t mind it. in fact, there’s something comforting about the way he stays close, attentive to your every move.

when you stop to touch a soft little onesie covered in tiny clouds, yoongi doesn’t even hesitate. he reaches over, gently taking it from your hands and adding it to the cart without a word. 

you shoot him a questioning look, but he only shrugs, a small smile tugging at his lips as if to say, whatever you want.

“yoongi, you know you don’t have to buy everything i touch, right?” you remind him, glancing at the growing pile in the cart.

yoongi just chuckles, unbothered, and places his hand on your waist again as you reach the aisle full of toys. his touch is warm and grounding, making it hard to argue with him.

“you’re not carrying any of it home, so relax,” he says with a smile that’s both charming and final. “i like this shit too. they’re cute or whatever—”

then, your fingertips brush as you both reach for a soft, star-patterned onesie. he lets go first, letting you hold onto the onesie.

“this one’s cute,” you say softly, running your thumb along the fabric. then, you bite back a small smile when you realizes yoongi hasn’t moved his hand from your waist.

“yeah,” he murmurs, nodding. his voice is softer than usual, but before you can read into it, he takes the onesie and tosses it into the cart. then he grabs a few more items without asking you, each time ignoring your attempts to peek at the price tags.

“yoongi..."

"what?"

"are you serious?"

he looks at you blankly. "don't we need these things?"

you nod but give him a stern look. "yeah, but we can't buy out the whole store."

"why not?"

"first of all, that's insane... and second of all—a-are you just—"

you reach for a soft, stuffed rabbit, just curious to feel it, and—predictably—he plucks it right out of your hands, tossing it into the cart.

"you are."

"i'm what?"

"seriously?" you huff, barely holding back a grin. “you’re not even letting me decide if i want it. you're tossing it in just because i touched it.”

he remains unbothered by your protests. 

“what if i just think you have good taste?” he says, glancing at you with a hint of mischief. 

and with that, he gives you a gentle nudge, guiding you further down the aisle with that warm hand still resting at your side.

“are you saying that just to flatter yourself?”

“what do i have to do with this?”

“well, you’re my type and my babydaddy—”

“i’m your type?” yoongi tilts his head at you. "good to know..."

you blush, eyes wide from embarrassment. before you can make up some excuse to save face, he leans in and playfully pinches your waist.

“you're my type too, mama.”

you clear your throat and redirect the conversation.

"s-should we pick a crib?"

yoongi gestures his hand for you to lead the way.

as you begin to walk, you turn your head and send him a glare.

"... and be serious about this part, okay? this is the crib we're picking out. read the packaging and make your judgement. i'm gonna end up choosing the prettiest one that might not function as well as the ugly one... so, can i trust your taste on this?"

yoongi nods, pushing the cart with a steady, unhurried pace, his hand resting casually on the handle.

“you can trust me,” he says, his voice low and sincere.

... and so, you do.

you trust him.

when you reach the checkout, you step forward to pay but—

yoongi slips right past you.

casually handing over his card to the cashier before you even get a chance. you cross your arms and narrow your eyes at him, watching as he signs the receipt, completely unbothered.

the total is easily above $3,000. 

he meets your gaze with a look that’s almost playful, his expression all wide-eyed innocence, as if he hadn’t just ignored your efforts.

"yoongi," you begin, voice firm. “we’re both injeolmi's parents, and it’s not fair for you to pay for everything. at least let me pay half—”

he doesn’t respond right away, just nods patiently, his attention focused on gathering the bags the cashier hands him. his face is calm, listening but clearly not swayed. he loads a big box containing the crib into the cart, then places the bags filled with tiny clothes, blankets, and toys right beside it, adjusting them carefully.

you press on, leaning slightly forward, hoping to get through to him.

“we’re both responsible here... i know i'm not a nurse practitioner like you, but it's not like i can’t contribute, you know—"

“i know.”

yoongi glances over his shoulder at you, his mouth quirking in the faintest smile as he stacks the last bag. he seems unbothered by your scolding, more amused than anything.

“this is my baby too and i feel uncomfortable letting you do this much—”

finally, he turns to you, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair back from your cheek in a gesture so casual it nearly makes you forget your own irritation. 

“do what? provide?”

you're tongue tied.

“all done? feel better, mama?” he asks, his tone light, but his eyes sparkle with a hint of mischief. “if not, go ahead. say what you want. say what you need to say. i’m listening.”

you let out a small huff, crossing your arms more tightly, trying to stay serious.

“you’re not paying for everything, yoongi.”

he raises one eyebrow, his expression softening but still unwavering. 

“i am. i did.” he shrugs, nonchalantly. it feels like he’s teasing you even though he isn’t. “___, i’m all done with this topic now. are you?”

“no, actually, i—” you start, feeling your frustration build.

“great,” he interrupts, his smile spreading into a grin that makes your heart skip. 

he reaches down, taking your hand in his, his grip gentle yet firm, and begins to guide you toward the exit, leaving you no room to protest. 

his thumb rubs lightly over your knuckles as he holds your hand, a grounding gesture that calms you, even as he completely ignores your point. 

“let’s go home,” he says softly, his voice warm, as though it’s the simplest decision in the world.

home.

following yoongi inside his condo, the familiar sight of his place tugging at something inside you. 

it’s been a while since you’ve been here. the memories of that night still linger like a quiet hum in the back of your mind, but you push them aside. 

focus on the present. 

focus on the baby.

he leads you through the hallways, and you try to ignore the way your pulse quickens as you walk past his bedroom. you know it’s silly—nothing’s changed here. but still, the weight of the space feels different, heavier now. maybe it’s because this time, you’re here for something else. 

this time, it’s about the baby.

and the fact that you’ll be moving in soon… fuck, your mind begins to spin.

then, yoongi stops in front of a door, his hand resting lightly on the handle. he opens it slowly, stepping aside to let you in. 

“this is the guest room,” he says, but you can tell he’s hesitating, like he’s waiting for your reaction. “soon to be baby injeolmi’s room…”

you step inside, your gaze instantly drawn to the empty space. it’s clean, quiet, the pale walls untouched by time or use. the sunlight pours in from the window, making the room feel warmer, but it’s still just a room. 

there’s nothing personal about it. 

nothing that belongs to anyone yet.

but you can already picture it—nursery furniture, soft colors, the quiet hum of a baby’s lullaby filling the air. you glance back at him, noting the careful expression on his face. he’s watching you, waiting for your approval. waiting for your thoughts, even if you’re not sure what to say. you wonder if he’s nervous too, if this feels as strange to him as it does to you.

for a moment, your mind drifts to that night—the night everything changed. 

the night you slept together. 

the night you felt something more than just friendship between you two. the way his touch felt, the way his lips lingered on yours, and how quickly it all faded into the awkward silence the next morning.

"i also made space for your things in my room. i'm not finished clearing out my all shit but i will be by next week. does that sound okay?"

"huh?" you blink. "n-next week?"

yoongi nods.

"i think i gave you enough time to think things over... and don't act like this is a surprise. i brought it up last night. you pretended to sleep."

your eyes widen.

"i—"

"move in with me next week," yoongi says. "... you can pretend to sleep mid conversation in my bed from now on."

by an hour and half in, you and yoongi have filled the space with scattered remnants of baby gear—boxes, parts of cribs, and the disassembled pieces of a changing table. they all lay haphazardly across the floor. 

it’s oddly comforting.

the clutter somehow feels like a soft reminder of the chaos and excitement that’s about to come.

yoongi is kneeling on the floor, tools in hand, as he begins to assemble the crib, the sound of metal and wood clicking together filling the otherwise quiet room.

you lean against the doorway, arms crossed, watching him work with a careful, focused precision. his brow is furrowed, his jaw clenched as he concentrates on each piece. his sleeves are rolled up, revealing forearms that make it hard to focus on anything else. you swallow, not bothering to hide the way your eyes drift to the muscle in his arms as he works.

and then, almost instinctively, he looks up at you, his gaze meeting yours as if he can feel your eyes on him.

“baby injeolmi’s clothes need to be washed,” he says, his voice low but firm, his hands already reaching for another tool. “you want to do this 50/50? fine. but i don’t want you getting hurt.”

you push off the doorframe, rolling your eyes as you walk toward him, crossing your arms over your chest. 

you’re not used to him treating you like you’re made of glass, but you get where he’s coming from. still, it doesn’t sit well with you.

“i’m pregnant but i’m not fragile,” you argue. “i can help you with the crib—“

he doesn’t budge, his jaw tightening as he focuses on the task at hand. 

“humor me then,” he says, his tone patient, but there’s an underlying edge of stubbornness that makes it clear this isn’t up for debate.

you’re about to argue further, but the way he’s working—so effortlessly, so damn focused—has you momentarily silent. the way his arms flex as he screws the pieces together, the tension in his shoulders, the occasional glance up to check in on you—it all just feels so... domestic, and so right in this moment.

you step back a little, your breath catching as you take in the scene. yoongi, with his sleeves pushed up, lost in his work, looks so different from the guy you met—still him, but somehow more.

more... grounded. more steady.

your gaze lingers, unable to pull away.

your cheeks heat, a strange flutter in your chest as you realize you’ve been staring too long. When Yoongi catches your eye, his expression unreadable for a split second, you scramble to regain your composure.

“i’ll, uh…” you quickly clear your throat, suddenly feeling the weight of the moment. “i’ll get started on baby’s laundry. do you have clothes that need to be washed too? i can do a load—i mean… fuck—y-you know what? how about i make us some lunch first? yeah. i’ll do that.” you say, quickly backing away before your feelings get the best of you.

your steps are hurried as you leave the room, but you can still feel the heat in your face, the warmth of his gaze following you as you retreat.

yet, the image of him—focused, strong, and all yours—lingers, and you can’t help but smile to yourself as you step into the kitchen.

in the kitchen, you decide to keep it simple yet comforting. 

something easy to share, nothing too fancy. you settle on making caprese chicken sandwiches with a side of fresh fruit and chips. 

you finish grilling the chicken and layer it on the toasted ciabatta. you add slices of fresh mozzarella, letting it melt slightly, then pile on thick tomato slices and fresh basil leaves. a drizzle of balsamic glaze finishes it off before you top it with the other half of the bread, pressing it together gently when yoongi walks in. 

without a word, he leans against the counter beside you, his presence as familiar as the scent of the meal. he doesn’t wait for you to finish; instead, he picks up a melon slice and takes a bite.

“can’t you wait two seconds?” you laugh, nudging him playfully with your elbow.

yoongi just grins, completely unbothered. he takes another bite.

“fruit always taste better when moms cut them,” he says, his voice teasing but laced with that quiet sincerity of his. “oh, should i say milf? or is that jungkook’s line?”

you roll your eyes but can’t help the smile tugging at your lips.

the way he stands there, so effortlessly himself, makes your chest tighten in a way you didn’t expect. he’s always been like this—comfortable, confident, and somehow, when he’s this close, it feels like everything else fades away.

as he pulls away, you notice a small smudge of melon juice on the corner of his lips. without thinking, you reach up to wipe it away, your thumb brushing softly against his skin. the movement feels natural, almost automatic, but something about the intimacy of it makes your heart flutter. you don’t hesitate, bringing your thumb to your mouth to clean it off.

“mhmm,” you moan. “tastes sweet.”

then, the moment freezes.

yoongi stares at you, eyes wide, as if he’s seeing you for the first time, like the simple action has somehow shifted everything. the air between you thickens, and suddenly, it feels like there’s more than just the space in the kitchen separating you.

you stand still, unsure of what to do next. 

your eyes lock, and in that second, something unspoken passes between you. it’s not just the closeness or the warmth of the kitchen—it’s a pull, an undeniable magnetism that makes your chest tighten and your breath catch.

yoongi’s gaze drops to your lips, and you can feel the tension, the quiet yearning between you both. his hand twitches slightly at his side, like he wants to reach for you, but he’s holding back, waiting for you to make the first move.

and just as you’re about to lean in, your belly gives a sudden flutter.

you gasp, your eyes widening in surprise, and instinctively, you reach for his hand, pressing it gently to your belly. 

“oh my god.”

“what?”

“yoongi… i think… here—”

you hold your breath, waiting, and then—

there it is again. 

a small, unmistakable kick.

yoongi’s eyes light up with awe, his fingers curling slightly around your hand as he feels it, a slow smile spreading across his face. he doesn’t say anything at first, just stands there, his eyes fixed on your stomach, filled with wonder and something deeper that you can’t quite place.

you squeeze his hand, feeling the weight of the moment settle around you both.

“did you feel that?” you whisper, a smile tugging at your lips. 

yoongi looks up at you, his eyes softer now, holding something deeper than the simple wonder of the moment. 

the air around you two has shifted into something more intimate. then, his gaze flickers to your face, his heart fluttering in his chest as he steps a little closer, his thumb gently brushing over your hand.

… and as he looks into your eyes, his pulse quickens. 

it’s not just the baby’s kick he feels—it’s this quiet, undeniable pull between you two. his chest tightens with the weight of it, and for a moment; this is everything to him. 

everything.

he gulps as he soaks in your presence and sinks into the idea feeling of love beginning. then, slowly and then all at once; he accepts it. 

“yeah,” yoongi says, tone warm and ever so sure. “i feel it.”

as you look up to meet his eyes, yoongi’s lips tug into a smile. dipping his head low, he kisses you.

[emeritusemeritus]

Masquerade: you can fool any friend who ever knew you. [Fred Weasley]

**This is part 2 to a request you can find HERE**

Title: Masquerade, you can fool any friend who ever knew you.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x SarcasticHufflepuff!Reader {Idiots in love}

Timeline: Non-specified/ non-canon event.

Summary: Following Hogwarts’ anniversary masquerade ball, will Fred ever find the mystery woman he’s longing for, and can you, his best friend with a light crush on him, survive it?

*Updated Warnings: Unrequited love, idiots in love, friends to lovers all the usual divine tropes. Happy ending I promise. Minor sexual references, 1 mention of masturbation, George fancies Angelina. Slight angst? We have a massive crush on Freddie. Bonus points for anyone who knows where the title is from. Kissing, love confessions. Did I just write 5k words and none of it was smut?! There’s a mention of Paedophilia in the form of a passing age related joke*

Word count: 1.8k

Thank you to my wonderful Anon who inspired this two part fic with their brilliant request. This story flowed out of me and I was unable to stop writing. Did I cry writing this? Definitely Maybe 🖤

It was mid-afternoon and you were walking from charms when you felt a paper bird fly into your shoulder, confusing you as there was virtually no one around. You'd stayed behind after class with Flitwick to go over some extra work you'd asked for to boost your grade and became throughout confused at the random paper. Opening it, you couldn't help but smile, seeing Fred awful handwriting littering the inside.

'Little Badger- My dorm, 8pm?'

You knocked on the door, waiting for his signal for you to enter and walked into the dorm with a smile on your face, pausing once you noticed that George wasn't there.

"Where George?"

"Well I'm offended," Fred says, giving you blank look, "where's bloody George, am I not good enough now? Also hello."

"Hello trouble," you say, walking over to hop onto Fred's bed, instantly lying down on the surprisingly comfy and tidy bed. You squeal as you feel him jump in beside you, the tiny beds making you think that Fred would be jumping on you but he surprises you by scooting over to allow you to just lay beside him.

"What did you want to do?" You ask, turning your head towards him.

"Hmm?" He asks, half as if he's not listening and the other half as if he doesn't understand.

"You asked me here, what have you got planned?"

"Nothing really, just wanted to see you. It's not a crime is it?" He smirks, eyes soft.

"Only if you're a paedophile," you say bluntly, watching with glee as his eyes bulge and he bursts out a laugh at the dark joke.

"Rotten woman," he mumbles, earning a half-arsed shove on the shoulder as you smile at him.

"Fancy a nap?" You say, eyes closing as you find a comfy spot on the bed.

"How old are you?" He asks tauntingly, preparing to tease you over the need for a little sleep.

You open one eye, looking straight towards him with a smirk on your face, "do you really want me to make the paedo joke again?"

His hands instantly come out to tickle your sides and you beg for mercy as you squirm, almost falling off the bed in the close quarters a few times before he relents.

"Let's go to the kitchens," he suggests.

"Or.. let's take a nap."

"Astronomy tower?"

"Orrrrr a nap?"

"Bloody hell woman how tired are you? I'm offering a romantic date with food and a view, not to mention the giant squid, and all you want to do is to sleep!"

Despite your eyes remaining closed, you'd never felt more awake at the word 'date' so casually slipping from his mouth, a fire in your tummy beginning to ignite the very thought. You try to think of something to say, anything, in reply but you can't, all words failing you completely until you bring up the one topic you didn't want to talk about.

"Not sure your mystery woman would approve," you joke, though there's no real humour in your words. Fred snorts and you open your eyes to see him frowning off into the distance.

"Given up on her already?" You say, digging a little deeper, intrigued by his curious reaction. You watch as he frowns, turning his head slowly to look at you, eyes softening slightly the longer that he stares.

"Let's go to the black lake."

"Are you going to drown me?"

"What? No," he says in concern at your words.

"Alright, lead the way then Weasley."

It's bloody freezing when you reach the edge of the lake, the wind whipping through the trees like it's trapped between the tree line and the school, making you fight off a chill.

"Here, have my robes," Fred offers, his fingers reaching for the fastening.

"No Freddie I'm fine, you'll be freezing," you say, reaching up for his hand to stop him untying it.

He pauses, your hand still resting on his as he looks into your eyes, a soft smile ghosting his face.

"You haven't called me Freddie in ages."

"Sorry," you say, averting your gaze and pulling your hand away but he stops you, grabbing your hand and holding it in his. You see how his gaze diverts to your entwined fingers but you don't say anything, opting instead to take a deep, steadying breath.

"Your hands are freezing," he observes, his fingers squeezing yours gently.

"Yours are warm," you hum in return.

Suddenly, he looks up at you again with a questioning gaze, like he's looking into your soul.

"I want to try something," he says, not glancing away. You simply nod, hardly trusting your voice in the moment as you let him adjust you however he wants.

His right hand slips around your waist, the heat from his skin penetrating yours immediately, warming your side and yourself. You can barely breathe, you're certain he's never been this close to you before. You watch as he follows his hand with his eyes, gripping your waist with his long fingers before trailing his eyes up to your entwined hands. His gaze then trails up to your face and you look at him with an expression that you hope is neutral but is probably very far from it.

He starts to spin you on the rocky shoreline of the black lake, the two of you dancing under the moonlight without any music. It's beautiful and bittersweet all at the same time.

“It was you.”

"It was you," he repeats, sounding breathless, slowing his footwork only slightly. You frown, brows knitting together at his words, completely lost at what he was accusing you of.

"That night, at the ball, it was you."

"Freddie it wasn't me," you say quietly, your emotions bubbling to the surface, finding it too hard to deny any longer under his gaze. "I wanted it to be you that I danced with, I wanted it to be me that you wanted. I looked for you but... it wasn't me Fred."

Tears begin to well up in your eyes but you don't feel upset anymore; you think this is the last step in your grief, the acceptance. You knew that with one simple lie you could have Fred Weasley for yourself, that everything you'd ever wanted was right at your fingertips but you couldn't do it. Not to yourself and especially not to Fred.

"But you were there, it could have been you," he says with determination. Did he want it to be you? You reluctantly shake your head, wishing more than anything that it was.

"The guy I danced with had black hair," you say, wanting to break the gaze but finding it impossible. You feel a pang of sadness when he chuckles, head thrown back with a humourless laugh that makes your stomach lurch. He'd realised that it wasn't you after all. He pulls away from you and your heart breaks just a little bit more.

"You mean like this?" He asks, pulling out his wand and pointing it directly at his head. You scramble to get him to stop whatever he's doing but you're rendered completely silent when you watch with wide eyes and mouth agape as he casts a spell you don't know that immediately turns his fiery locks pitch black.

A sob escapes you as you look at him, hardly recognising the boy you'd loved forever seeing him with black hair, realising that it must have been him.

It really was him.

"There's about 6 people in this school with red hair and 4 of them are Weasleys, kind of defeats the point of being anonymous doesn't it," he says with a smirk. You're gobsmacked, still doubting what's in front of you.

"It really was you? The orange waistcoat with the gold stars?" You say, trying to pull the memory of the mystery man as clearly as you can.

"If you look in my wardrobe right now I can promise you it's hanging there," he says, pocketing his wand, the boyish smile returning to his lips.

"And my dress?" You ask, waiting for the moment he'd describe it wrong and this whole dream would slip away from you.

"Could kill a man," he says with a smirk, trying to calm your apparent nerves and denial. He describes it in near perfect detail, including your mask. You're breathless, lip quivering as you realise that it's really real.

"You believe me?" He asks, slowly moving forward. You nod, unable to find your voice.

"You trust me?"

You nod with more enthusiasm, never doubting your trust in him for a second.

He smirks, moving forward and you reluctantly hold out for hand to stop him, his smirk fading from his face instantly.

"Whatever happens next isn't happening until you look like you again," you say through a laugh, your eyes lighting up as he laughs too having forgotten about the black hair. He pulls out his wand and with a single effortless flick, he's Fred again.

This time he doesn't ask for permission, it's all in your eyes, the welcoming, the love. His hand grabs yours and he slowly pulls you into him, his right hand sliding onto your waist whilst his left hand tucks it self under your chin. There's a moment that passes as you look into each other's eyes where nothing else exists outside of the two of you. His eyes flick down to your lips as his fingers lift your chin ever so slightly whilst he begins to lean down.

His lips feel like pure magic against yours. It's like finding that perfect wand at Ollivanders that has chosen you, completely in sync and connected through a force invisible to the human eye.  You give in to the kiss without a second thought, allowing him to dominate the kiss, his tongue sliding deliciously against your own, the comfort of his pillowy soft lips nearly taking your breath away. It's everything you could have ever imagined and you can't imagine for a single moment from here that you could ever be without it again.

He pulls away eventually and you look up at him with shining eyes, tears of happiness welled up in your eyes at the years of torment finally absolved. He looks at you like he never has before, it's full of love, full of adoration.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," he admits with a chuckle that makes you snort at his stupid words.

"I'd wager that I have some idea."

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet Cute - Law's Story - 16

Source for pic

The Great Pretender 16

Word Count: 4260

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Law is a soft dom; you have bratty tendencies (not all the time); voice kink; praise kink; cursing; very suggestive behaviour and innuendo from the start; sexual tension; teasing; so much flirting; romance; slow-burn; fluff; slight angst; mature audiences (though explicit NSFW moments will be properly tagged on the chapter); possessive Law; protective Law; soft Law; teasing Law; manipulative Doflamingo; inappropriate Doflamingo; fake relationship trope; only one-bed trope; reader has some anxiety issues; reader is a control freak and perfectionist; modern day AU; Mention of ex mentally abusive relationship;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Law (your father's doctor) start to build a flirty friendship because of your father’s procedure. So much so that when he’s invited to Baby 5’s wedding (his cousin), he asks you to be his date. His uncle Doflamingo - who is filthy rich - is very adamant on finding a suitable wife for him. Seeing as he wants to avoid that, he asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for the weekend.

Notes: The angst arrives in full force! How about that!? Come on, you had to be expecting that! Also, I'm thinking about two chapters left (well, one and the epilogue), so we're almost at the end! PS: This song fits the chapter like a glove! *chef's kiss*

|Masterlist| | |Chapter 15|

The night is almost over. Just a few more dances before the guests send the newlyweds off to their honeymoon, and then you and Law can escape back into the safety of your room. Just one hour, tops. What could go wrong in an hour?

Even more so now that you’ve finally confessed the three words that have been bothering you for a while. And they were reciprocated.

You’re adamant about not letting go of Law’s hand for the rest of the night. A feeling of dread still coils in the pit of your stomach, and you don’t know exactly why, but you’re not about to let fate play a prank on you.

Except, fate’s got nothing on Donquixote Doflamingo. 

“Nephew, I need you. It’s urgent.” Law groans, his hand tightening around yours, since this is clearly Doffy's last opportunity to feed some lie to Law and try to break you two apart. You’re honestly tired of it all. 

“Tomorrow, Uncle. I’m tired.”

“Now.” Doflamingo’s tone leaves no room for discussion, and Law clenches his jaw. Underneath it all, Law still respects his uncle. You’re not quite sure why he still respects the man, he’s despicable, but you suspect it’s because he instilled in Law a deep-seated sense of family ties and loyalty. And Law won’t break free of his morals. 

“Go. I have to freshen up anyway.” You whisper with a smile. You’ve confessed. He knows how you feel. Nothing will come between the two of you. 

Law smiles at you, and with a last squeeze of your hand, he lets you go. 

-*-

You purposefully take a while longer in the bathroom, fixing your makeup, your hair, and your dress. Unnecessary moves, really, since you’re about to leave to go to bed soon, and you’re actually craving that massage Law mentioned earlier. 

That and… well, you’re craving Law. Period.

You exit the bathroom with a silly smile still plastered on your lips and almost bump into a chest. “Oh, forgive me, I–... Ichiji.” 

Obviously.

“Fancy seeing you here.” He begins.

“Cut the crap.” You don’t even let him say anything else, already pushing past him to return to the reception tent, but he halts you, a hand on your upper arm, and you seethe. “What did I tell you about touching me?”

He lets go of you immediately, taking a step back and sighing while passing a hand over his coiffed hair. “Right, sorry.”

Sorry? 

You look behind you and around, trying to notice if something feels out of place. You might have entered a portal to some sort of alternate universe when you were in the bathroom because there’s no way in hell Ichiji would ever apologise to you.

“What?”

“I’m sorry, Doll. For… well…” He sighs again, steps forward, and then back again. “For cheating, for treating you like crap, for taking you for granted… I… well, I know now it’s too late, but seeing you happy with someone else made me realise what I lost and how I was the only one to blame.”

No, seriously, there has to have been a portal back there. Something, anything. This is not happening. 

Your heart constricts in your chest. You lost count of how many times you dreamed about Ichiji asking for your forgiveness, to truly repent for what he put you through. But it happening here, in a place you'd never thought you'd meet him, and completely out of the blue? 

What's his game? 

“I don't think you need my forgiveness to move on. I know I don't need your apologies.” A heavy sigh parts your lips. “Not when you're delivering them far too late.”

You make another motion to pass through him, but he moves in front of you and whispers your name in a desperate plea. “I do need your forgiveness. I need closure.” 

What? You cock your eyebrow, your lips twisting down in a frown. “After all you've put me through for–...” You wave your hands in the air. “I’m not even going to count the years we spent together. Just today is enough! After all the theatrics and the taunting, you expect me to believe you just want closure?”

The way he slumps his shoulders and downcasts his eyes reminds you of the first times you argued, back in the beginning of the relationship, when you actually believed his apologies, and your heart constricts some more at all the memories. 

“Yes, Doll. Just closure. I'm about to leave the party, and I know we won't meet again, unless it's by chance, and I don't want us to part on bad terms.” He takes a tentative step your way. “Just say you'll forgive me, please.”

You want him out of your sight, out of your mind, and completely out of your heart. You know you don't love him anymore, but you still hold memories and feelings of nostalgia, and when he's looking at you with puppy-dog eyes, you can't help but soften up a little bit. He does seem sorry. 

“Fine, Ichiji, fine. We can part ways on lighter terms. I don't completely forgive you for what you took from me or for how you made me feel, but I won't resent you for it anymore.”

He actually smiles at you. Not that conceited, smug smirk, but a genuine smile. 

“That's all I ask for, Doll.”

“Good. Goodbye.”

“Wait, please.” Is that pain in his voice? Is he really sorry and repentant for everything? You don’t say anything, but you don’t move either, just waiting for what he wants to say. “Can I get one last hug?”

The face you make must have been something special to look at because he grimaces and chuckles softly, his hand passing through his hair again. 

“A harmless hug? Please? It’s just for–...”

“Closure, right?” Should you? He’s actually sounding human for once in all the time you’ve known him, and he does seem sorry. It’s just a hug goodbye. What harm can it bring? “Fine. Make it quick.”

With a sigh, you let him bend down to envelop you in his arms, but then you actually smile. You don’t feel anything. No rage, no pain, no hurt, no longing… it’s just a void. You know there used to be something there, but now you’re free.

It’s a wonderful feeling, actually. 

Until Ichiji’s hands cup your face, and he tilts your head to the side, doing the same to his and leaning in further, his lips inches away from yours. His taller frame engulfs you, and the lights are very dim near the bathroom. It almost looks as if you’re sharing a kiss. 

“Wha–...”

“I still win, Doll.”

A cold shiver runs down your spine as he shows you the same smug smile he always did, his canines almost glistening with glee. You’re frozen in place. What does he mean? 

And then he parts, leaving you open-mouthed, chest heaving, and cheeks flushed from trying to grasp what is going on. It doesn’t take long for your eyes to adjust to two figures looming at the entrance of the hallway that leads to the bathrooms. 

Doflamingo and… oh, no.

“Law?”

Doffy is bent down, one arm around Law’s shoulders, his lips moving fast as he mouths words into Law’s ears. You can almost bet he’s spewing lies and deceptions about you, twisting everything to make Law doubt you. You know he has trouble trusting people, it would be so easy to make him doubt.

But what breaks you is Law’s expression. His usually stoic face bears the signs of hurt, and he’s clenching his fists by his sides, jaw ticking, trying to contain his emotions and failing at it. 

“Law!” You try again, taking a step forward and see Doffy still speaking into Law’s ear. Lies, all lies, for sure. Law’s gaze falls on Ichiji and then back at you, and you realise that this was orchestrated. It has to have been orchestrated. 

Ichiji holding you as if he were kissing you, Doffy bringing Law by the bathroom? It was their ultimate move.

“It’s not what you think, Law.” You take another step forward, and you can almost hear the shards of Law’s flimsy trust being broken and shattered into pieces. 

He shakes his head and takes a step back, hand flying over his head to tousle his hair. “I… I need some air.” Turning on his heel, he leaves you in a hurry, and you stifle a sob. 

No, no, no.

You need to reach him, to speak with him and let him know what happened. That nothing actually happened! He can’t possibly think you would betray him like this. Turning your wobbly steps into strides, you try to follow Law’s retreating figure into the crowd, despair tugging at your insides, tears already threatening to fall.

And then you’re stopped by a strong hand on your arm. “Where do you think you’re going, princesa?” 

An actual growl leaves your lips. “Let go, Doflamingo. I need to speak with Law.” Your tug does nothing to loosen his grip, and you seethe. 

“That’s where you’re wrong.” He tuts, his fiery eyes boring deep into yours. “You won’t speak to my nephew. Not now, nor ever again. You’ll leave him alone to live his life and disappear.”

Shaking your head, you try again, but his grip is too strong. “He needs to listen to me! He’s going to be heartbroken. It’s not what he thinks.”

“He’ll be fine. He has a family that loves him.” Doffy’s words sound melodic, but the melody is one of doom, not hope. 

“Only Cora loves him, clearly.” Your scoff comes accompanied by stubborn tears you’re trying to keep enclosed. “All I’ve ever wanted from Law was love, all I have to give to him is love. Why do you want to take that away? Do you hate him that much?”

Doflamingo straightens his shoulders, and now he seems impossibly high. “On the contrary, cariño. I love him dearly. And it’s because I love him that I need him to learn this lesson. I thought he had already learned it the hard way, but he didn’t. Romantic love only brings weakness. It doesn’t do him any kindness, and he needs to let that go. He needs to be strong and in control, not a fool in love.”

Finally, your harsh tug makes him release you, but his imposing figure is still blocking the way. You stamp your feet, much like a small child, and grit your teeth, anger making your eyes blaze red. “You think that makes him stronger? Is that why you push the people that love him away?”

He shakes his head, those annoying tuts leaving his lips as he gives you a condescending look. “Not at all. Only those that do not.”

“Then you are a damned fool.” He growls at your disrespect, and you couldn’t care less. He lost any small ounce of respect you might’ve still held for him when he pulled this stunt. “Because if you hadn’t interfered, I would still be by Law’s side, and I love him!”

Doffy’s laugh comes in small waves, his eyes shining with amusement as he sizes you up with his fiery gaze. “An admirable sentiment, mi querida, though I doubt it to be true.” You open your mouth, ready to be disrespectful again, but he reaches into his pocket and pulls out an all-too-familiar device: your tablet. 

With a flick of his finger, he opens it to the spreadsheet you now know by heart: all of Law’s likes and dislikes, every useful thing for your fake relationship, every piece of information you and Law gathered to make sure you were prepared for this event. 

You can’t help the stutter that leaves your lips, nor the red flushing your cheeks. “Law… he.. Law knew about that.” Why does your voice sound so small? Is it because you were caught?

“I’m sure.” His demeanour contradicts his words. And then he hands you the tablet, a frown finally overtaking his mocking smile, and you almost shrink at how his aura suddenly feels very threatening. “You’re done here. You will never speak to my nephew again.”

Tears sting your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. Doflamingo can’t win this, not after what you and Law went through. Not after realising he’s the love of your life. 

“You can’t do that.” Your voice comes out as a mere trembling whisper. “You can’t pull strings and control Law’s life as if he’s a puppet and you’re his puppeteer! He has a say in his own life!” You try to take a step forward, but he doesn’t budge. “I’ll tell him what happened, and he’ll realise I never meant to hurt him. Just let me through!”

“You’re done.”

“Law has a right to make his own choices. You don’t own him!” The pesky tears start to stain your cheeks, you feel impotent and useless. 

“Not choices that will end up destroying him.”

“The ones you are making for him might do just that.” Your voice finally breaks, and a ragged sob leaves your lips with the weight and the helplessness of it all. “He is not your pawn! You can’t manipulate him like this! Please… please! Let me speak to him! You’ll truly destroy him with this…”

Law placed his trust in you. After what he’s been through with Monet, you know it must not have been easy to let himself love and be loved. And Doflamingo manipulated you both to an extent that will come with dire consequences. Law will be broken, and so will you.

“I will face whatever consequences come from my actions with Law. He might be hurt for a while, but he will emerge stronger. He has done it once.”

“But at what cost?” You whisper, too drained to fight back. With a shaky inhale, you straighten your shoulders as your hands grip the tablet for some sort of grounding. “I’ll speak to him later, then. You can’t keep us apart. You will not ruin what we have.”

Pushing past him, you take one full step before Doflamingo’s words freeze you in place. 

“I would rethink that if I were you, querida.” Something in his voice halts your breathing as you look over your shoulder and find him grinning. “Your father is still recovering from surgery, right? Some businesses collapse pretty quickly when something like this happens… no one would look twice.”

What?

“Is that a threat?” Doffy certainly has the power to ruin your father’s horse business. 

Waving his hands in the air in a dismissive manner, his smirk returns to his lips, more menacing this time. “Oh no, no. I don’t make threats… they’re too amateurish.” His laugh fills your ears, and the same shiver as before courses through your veins. “It’s more of a prediction.”

Gathering strength and bravado you do not have, you square your shoulders and lift your chin. “My father is strong, and he has my help. We’ll manage.” Turning your face forward, you will your feet to move again.

“How brave. So what about Law’s clinic?” Your breath stops so suddenly that you almost think you have a collapsed lung. He can’t be serious. “I won’t be cryptic, cariño, here’s the deal: if you speak to Law again, I’ll make sure his clinic tanks. And you know how much he loves that little place, with his friends and helping people.” He tsks and waves his hand dismissively. “I would much rather he dedicated himself to the company, so perhaps you would be doing me a favour. Law, on the other hand? Now that would devastate him.”

“Please, don’t…” You don’t know what else to do. Doflamingo is too powerful, too influential. He will destroy Law either way and claim to be helping him while doing it. You feel trapped, what can you do? “Please don’t do that to him.”

“I don’t want to. I do love him. But that depends on you.” Doflamingo sets one hand on your shoulder to turn you back to face him. “There’s a car waiting for you outside with all your belongings. You will leave the party immediately with Ichiji, as it will help sell the ruse.” 

Your legs start to wobble as breath begins to catch in your throat again. Powerless. Completely stripped of any will. That’s how you’re feeling. 

“You will not speak with Law today, nor ever. Not even when you both go back to your boring little lives. He’ll think you abandoned him, which suits me, really. No one needs a gold digger.”

“I’m not–...”

“I don’t care!” Doflamingo leans in, and his breath fans your face. He’s as angry as you’ve ever seen anyone, and you can almost see the veins pulsating dangerously in his neck. “You’re a distraction and a liability. Law doesn’t need any of that.”

“Everybody needs love…” Is this your last hail Mary? Because it’s not a very strong one.

“Not the Donquixote family.” He steps back and motions Ichiji forward. “Leave. Don’t speak to Law. It’s simple, I’m sure you can follow that, princesa.” He chuckles again while fixing his tie and suit. “Or else…” 

The words he leaves unsaid are a weight on your soul. You can’t think, you can’t breathe, you can barely exist. All you know is that Law is somewhere, hurting, thinking you betrayed his trust.

And the fact that you will leave without any explanation will only cement that feeling. 

You thought you’d been heartbroken before - exhibit A is currently walking by your side, leading you away from the party with a hand on your back that you’re too tired to swat away - but you’ve never been hurt like this.

This pain is visceral. It burns, it blisters, it festers, and it destroys. 

You’re not actually sure you’ll ever recover from this. 

-*-

Law was taken away from you by Doflamingo yet again, and as his uncle drones on about business and about the imminent merger, all Law can think about is you in his arms and the peace you bring him.

“Are you listening to me, Law?”

“No, Uncle, I’m not. It’s late, and I’m tired.” He yawns for effect and shrugs. “I’m going to bed.” But before he can retreat, Doflamingo sighs and slings his hand over Law’s shoulder.

“Fine, Law. But first, I’ve made some assumptions during this weekend, and I need you to tell me if I’m right or wrong.” Law sighs and nods. Agreeing with Doffy is the fastest way to get rid of him. He starts leading Law back into the party, and Law follows without giving it much thought. 

“I know you and the little princesa were not a couple before this weekend. I’m actually doubting that you are a couple at this moment… and my assumption is: you told her you didn’t want to come to my daughter’s wedding without a date because I tend to introduce you to a lot of respectable young ladies you don’t relate to. So, to avoid that, she offered to come as your date. Am I right?”

Law already knew Doffy had discovered that bit of your ruse, so he doesn’t act surprised, he acts resigned. 

“Almost. I was the one who asked her.” Law grins. “The ladies you introduce me to are not respectable. Half of the ones I met proposed to do very salacious things to me in very public places.”

Doffy grins back at him, and Law sighs while shaking his head. 

“You got that half-right, Doffy. Are you happy?”

“Not in the least. You see, Law, what I think is that the young lady realised the family you belonged to and decided to take advantage of that fact by seducing you. Is that a correct assumption?”

“Frankly, Uncle, I’m growing tired of that subject. We have already proved to you that we care about each other deeply. And even if we didn’t, we don’t have to prove anything to you anymore. This is my choice, and you will not interfere in it.”

Doffy tilts his head and nods, a mysterious smile playing on his lips as he leads Law to the bathroom. 

“Fair enough. But… Nephew… do you truly believe she cares that much about you? Do you think she loves you?” A small chuckle escapes his lips. “I thought you were done with being naive…”

Law grits his teeth while his heart clenches in his chest. Doflamingo’s words always have a way of penetrating his skull and making him doubt everything. “She loves me. I know that.” He didn’t mean to sound so defensive, but then again, Doffy had no reason to attack him. 

“I hope, for your sake, that you are right.” Doffy brings one hand to his chest and bows his head slightly. “I would hate to see you blindsided. Again.” His emphasis on the word ‘again’ brings hurtful memories of Monet back to Law’s mind, and he grunts. 

“We’re fine, Doffy. Thank you for your concern.” Law is about to turn and leave, but Doffy holds him by the shoulder and directs his gaze towards the dimly lit hallway of the bathroom. 

“Oh… would you look at that, then…”

Law instantly freezes, his brain showing him tricks. It has to be tricks. There’s no way that’s you wrapped in Ichiji’s arms. Law can only see the back of Ichiji’s hulking frame, but that’s your dress he sees peeking from the side, those are your hands holding his waist.

And now he’s cupping your cheeks, leaning… no.

A kiss?

Law shakes his head, denial, frustration, and… betrayal. That’s the word echoing in his head incessantly. Where once were your ‘I love you’s’ now stood that shadow of a word. Betrayal, betrayal, betrayal…

“You see, Law,” Doffy leans against Law’s ear, his venomous tongue spewing hurtful words. Words that ring true, too close to Law’s heart. Too at home with his pain. “She’s no different from Monet, really… they both traded you, broke your trust.”

Law’s throat is dry, and he feels little sweat beads trickling down his sideburns. The nails digging into the flesh of his hand cut little crescent indents, trying to ground him, trying to pull him back from the pitfall of despair he’s about to be sucked into. 

“Love hurts, Nephew. Love tears and destroys. You can only trust your family or you should trust only yourself.”

Doffy keeps talking, but Ichiji breaks from you, and there’s a mix of confusion and distress on your face as your eyes meet Law’s. And then there’s panic as you whisper his name.

This can’t be happening. You wouldn’t do this to him. Not you.

“Law!” 

Your plea is clear, but he can’t think straight. It’s too much, it’s too painful. 

“Don't believe her lies, Law. You know what you saw.” Doffy murmurs. 

“I… I need some air.” Law’s voice comes out as a mere whisper as he turns and disappears. The air suddenly feels rare, his chest too tight. 

There’s not enough room in the world to harbour the size of this betrayal. It’s too much. 

-*-

The coolness of the outside air does nothing to soothe him. It still feels stifling, and the control is slipping away from his fingers. Running his hand through his hair in a desperate gesture only brings him more heartache. 

Why?

Law keeps thinking about your pain and grief when you spoke about Ichiji. How could you return to the man who hurt you so? 

Maybe you didn’t.

No. Law knows what he saw. You were in Ichiji’s arms.

But he didn’t see a kiss.

There was no mistaking it. He held your face and–... and what? Could he have forced you? Were you held against your will? Law tries hard to unscramble his jumbled memories, but the pain in his chest is so heavy that he barely knows where to start.

He didn’t see a kiss. Of that, he’s certain. Could he be overthinking it? What if it was nothing, or if he forced you? And instead of helping you or hearing your words, Law panicked? Hadn’t he promised you not to listen to Doffy’s words? 

Yet that was exactly what he did. 

Fuck.

Did he get this all wrong? Law sighs and inhales deeply three times, trying to calm his ragged breaths and his uneven heart. He knows you. You wouldn’t do that to him, let alone with a man who hurt you so deeply.

There has to be an explanation for what happened, and he’s ready to listen to it.

Turning around, Law returns to the party, hoping you’re still somewhere near so he can speak with you and listen to what you have to say, to what really happened, to the truth.

He’s expecting to find you frantically looking for him, and his heart is already constricting from the anxiety you must be feeling. He should’ve just stayed a while longer. You would have explained, and neither he nor you would have had to panic. 

But what he wasn’t expecting was to see you leaving the party. He wasn’t expecting to see Ichiji’s hand resting against your lower back, silently guiding you through the remaining guests. He wasn’t expecting to see you walking out with him.

Willingly. 

So it was the truth.

Law’s heart breaks completely, the full extent of your betrayal settling in, expanding, and commandeering all of his love for you. Doflamingo was right. It pains him to admit this, but he was.

You’re a liar, and Law was foolish enough to trust you.

Tag List:@rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia @rainbow2312 @alexturnersgirl

[kanansdume]

What's almost worse is that at the end of that arc, it's not the JEDI that Ahsoka blames, it's HERSELF. She doesn't leave because she decides she can't trust the Jedi or the Council anymore, she leaves explicitly because she wonders if she can truly trust HERSELF anymore and needs some time and space to figure that out.

And then even in Rebels, there's no indication Ahsoka has any negative feelings about the Jedi or about BEING a Jedi. When she interacts with Kanan and Ezra, she never tries to convince them away from being Jedi or the teachings that Kanan is pulling from more traditional Jedi methods that HE was taught. Ahsoka is often lumped in with them as a Jedi and never pushes back on that. She explicitly calls them in on "Jedi business" to go to Malachor later, and when they save the Force sensitive babies from the Inquisitors, it's AHSOKA who remembers that the Jedi had been the one to protect Force sensitive children before and agrees when Kanan says that they have to pick up that responsibility, now. Her "I am no Jedi" line is a lot more about her being angry and upset when she's told that Vader "killed" Anakin and her guilt over Anakin's fate being unmanaged so she loses herself to anger for a moment. At the end of season four, when Ezra saves her, it's AHSOKA who councils Ezra to let go of Kanan rather than try to save him because of the potential consequences if he did, comparing it to her own inability to save Anakin. So even though she'd given in to anger and despair just minutes ago for her, she's still capable of walking it back enough to council Ezra into letting go of his pain and recognizing she has to do the same herself. And unlike in the Mandoverse, this advice isn't shown to be wrong, and Ezra choosing to follow it is part of what ultimately allows him to save everyone.

So it's only been REALLY REALLY RECENTLY that we've started getting these storylines of Ahsoka being distinctly critical of the Jedi or angry with the Jedi or against being considered a Jedi. It started in TCW season 7, and was hinted at in her appearances in The Mandalorian and The Book of Boba Fett, and then got made super explicit in the Ahsoka show. It sucks that an arc that was meant to be more about Ahsoka learning to grow from her own youthful mistakes has turned into something so critical of the Jedi. I'm not a big fan of the Wrong Jedi arc IN GENERAL, I think it's poorly written, nonsensical, and super racist. But I also think that the ultimate message at the end of that arc is very different than the way it tends to get referred to since 2020, and that shift in perspective on that arc has also shifted the way Ahsoka's relationship with the Jedi is seen, too. Instead of just a chance for Ahsoka to reflect on her flaws, her own impatience and perhaps even arrogance, and grow from them, it's just a way for Ahsoka to distance herself from the Jedi and blame them for everything that ever went wrong (the war, Order 66, Anakin's fate, etc).

What sucks the most to me is that the story USED to acknowledge that the Jedi had done the best they could and Ahsoka just kept making it harder and harder to support her with her bad choices and that she needed to learn from those mistakes. Now the story just acts like Ahsoka can't MAKE mistakes, while the Jedi can ONLY make mistakes.

It's continuously frustrating that this show REFUSES to condemn Anakin for the things he's done or even really explicitly call him out on them, and they even go so far as to basically decide none of it even MATTERED.

But all they can say about the Jedi is that they failed.

When asked what Anakin was like, all Huyang says is that he was "intense."

The worst Ahsoka says is that he was "more dangerous than anyone realized" and then two episodes later she's calling him a "good master" despite everything he did to her and the rest of the galaxy. She never ONCE condemns him for committing a genocide against the Jedi and hunting them down for over two decades. She never ONCE condemns him for enslaving the clones and betraying their loyalty and using them as weapons against the Jedi they loved. She never ONCE condemns him for trying to personally kill HER.

He jokes with her, he gets to say that he wants to protect her, he gets to guide her into choosing to live, he makes recordings for her that she still uses years later. Anakin gets to be "more" than just his failures.

But the Jedi, somehow, do not. The Jedi are ONLY EVER their failures. Ahsoka never mentions them otherwise, she never remembers them fondly at all, she has no stories or connections about any of the other Jedi, she constantly disregards Jedi protcols as foolish and ridiculous at best.

The best thing they can say about the Jedi is that the "idea of them" had merit. But Anakin gets to be a GENUINELY good Jedi Master, more than just a good IDEA.

And this just feels like the WORST of double standards to me.

[hunter470]

My 9-1-1 RANT

Ok, I don’t normally do these types of posts, but I can’t move on until I get some things out. These are just my thoughts about the latest episodes of 9-1-1 as well as overall comments on the Buck/Tommy relationship. These opinions are mine and are based on the countless hours of TV I’ve watched in my 54 years on this planet, as well as my knowledge of writing and how Hollywood operates. I’m not confirming that any of this is true or are the real intentions of anyone involved with the show. Just my opinions. So, you can agree with me or not. I’m not trying to persuade anyone in any way. Also, I’m not going to get into endless arguments about my opinions but feel free to comment if you want, I just don’t promise I’ll reply. 

Ok, here we go. Sorry it’s so long. Like I said earlier, I just needed to get it out. So many wasted opportunities.

If you think TM cares what the fans want, you’re seriously kidding yourself. If he did, Buddie would have been canon a long time ago. The only thing he cares about is ratings and his vision for the show, which can change at a moment’s notice with no rhyme or reason as we’ve seen. 

Although I loved Buck and Tommy together, I knew the show wouldn’t do their story justice. So, no matter what TM or OS have said, the bi story was only to garner publicity, draw in new viewers, and increase ratings especially with the show moving to a new network. There was no altruistic reason behind it so don’t kid yourself. They knew there was an audience for the story because of all the Buddie shippers. Just remember, it’s called show business, not show friends for a reason.

Do you think OS really cares about bi representation? Based on his latest comments and non-apology it’s obvious he only cares about getting the stories that garner him the most screen time and press. Seriously, read his latest interviews. He’s excited to get to have fun now. So, congrats OS, Buck gets to F around. Just shows how most, if not all, actors are ego driven no matter what they say. Sorry not sorry.

TM has commented that he doesn’t owe anyone anything. In fact, I recall him saying to Buddie fans if they don’t like it, read fanfiction. If that didn’t clue you in, then you weren’t reading the room. Kinda reminds me of another show runner…for those who watched H50 you know who I’m talking about. That’s why I don’t get heavily invested in these shows. I’ll watch but I never expect anything I like to last…especially if it has to do with gay relationships.

It says a lot that the show remained completely silent about the bullying and death threats Lou received just for playing a role he was happy to play. Again, they really didn’t care because they knew he wasn’t going to be there after episode six. What a great message for all the bullies…just keep bullying and you’ll get what you want. 

Again, reread OS’s interviews. He was doing the Hollywood double speak. Says just enough to keep you hooked with hope to get you to watch even when he knew all along it wasn’t lasting. It really was as clear as day if you go back and read what he said. 

Also, if you thought Buck was going to get into a meaningful long-term relationship, then you didn’t watch the video from the You Tuber “Call Me Chato” that TM posted on his Facebook. The video was all about characters and how they should always stay fundamentally the same with minimal development - I’m paraphrasing. However, Buck is the golden retriever, heart so big it gets broken, character who will remain on a hamster wheel and unlucky in love because that’s who he is. If he changes too much it shifts the dynamic, which only happens if the show was ending. 

If you thought the writers would do justice to a bisexual story, then you haven’t been watching the show closely. There’s been minimal Buck/Tommy relationship development on screen. Taylor got more. Viewers were lucky to get crumbs in the limited screen time Buck and Tommy got. Then, a breakup out of left field? One minute Buck is saying Tommy is it for him and he wants him to move in, and then it’s over? If he truly felt deeply for Tommy, why not fight to keep him? Why give up so easily and let him walk away? What’s the point? Also, to end it on a terrible stereotype is yet another clue. Horrible writing and another sign that TM and OS had zero investment in the relationship. The whole break up was rushed and made no sense. Essentially, it was just used to draw people in and to get Buck single and sleeping around again because that’s who he is. I for one won’t care for any of Buck’s future relationships. I mean, why would I when they never last. 

Also, writers that give you a 66-year-old police sergeant and a 10 y/o boy landing a heavily damaged plane on an active freeway in LA with no prior training, and sorry playing video game flight simulators is not training, is some Sharknado level writing, which is not a compliment. Oh, and that whole story was truly the shows “jumping the shark” moment. If you don’t know what the term “jumping the shark” means, look it up and try to tell me I’m wrong. 

Not having Tommy involved in the three part premier episodes, other than a few minutes at a birthday party, was so obvious as to the show’s intent. I mean, the fake captain from Hotshots got more screen time. 

They claim they wanted someone for Buck that was connected to him and the 118 and then you don’t use the character at all. You wanted Buck off the hamster wheel? What a crock! Such a wasted opportunity.

Since it’s been confirmed episode 6 was filmed before 5, Tim’s just playing god with peoples’ feelings and crushing their hearts at this point. I mean, how do you have such a great episode (5) and a wonderful speech by Josh (6) just to break them up? Plus, having Tommy break up after six months? That man was all in, which was obvious in episode 5.

Guess it shouldn’t be a surprise that’s how TM would handle things after that horrible Tarlos breakup. At least on Lone Star we knew Rafa (Carlos) was a main cast member so there was hope. Lou was a guest star so it seems kinda final based on his interviews. Again, what was the point? They could have had Buck's bi revelation be with a random character. So, building up the Buck/Tommy relationship just to take it away was to inflict the most pain. Good job. 

Do I think the show will make Buddie canon? Who knows…one thing I do know is I wouldn’t trust them if they did. Also, even if Tommy somehow returns, I don’t trust TM with anything related to this story. Sure, hope he’s happy with ruining the show for so many people. Again, like another show runner I mentioned in item 4 above. Honestly, I can’t believe the Buddie fans have stayed for so long. That’s commitment, I guess. 

Do I think Lou should go back to 9-1-1? Hell no! He was screwed over by both TM and OS. Prove it to me otherwise. However, it’s up to him and of course, he loves acting so I wouldn’t blame him.

Finally, even though I’ve watched the show since the beginning, it no longer brings me joy. There are too many other TV shows to stick with one I no longer enjoy. So yes, I’m announcing my departure, and I don’t give an F what OS, you, or anyone else thinks about it. Not that any of this matters any way…

[captainofthetidesbreath]

I will say, at the end of the day, I am very fond of Illario Dellamorte, despite it all. Yes, he managed to make every single POSSIBLE bad decision one can make, then figured out how to make a few more that nobody else would've thought possible. Yes, he was increasingly sloppy and incredibly stupid about it all. Yes, a lot of his frustration and rage is incredibly misdirected. Yes, I said before the game came out that I support him having a villain era, and I still do because it's fun and I love mess and drama—as much as he stresses me out and makes me want to strangle him because Jesus Fucking Christ.

Still, I think I like the idea of forgiving him. For me, there's something interesting in how he doesn't kill Caterina, in how he didn't ask for what happened to Lucanis and seems genuinely angry—wrong as he is to direct it at Lucanis—that the control that Lucanis so highly prized was taken from him rather than dying at his best, in how he can engineer Lucanis's death but experience a grief that still feels harrowingly genuine at the wake, in how he clearly is grasping at any possible advantage and is carelessly choosing his allies not because he believes in their goals or ideals but because he's desperately power-hungry and ambitious and no more. In how, if he is forgiven, Lucanis is impressed he almost got away with it, in how Illario goes to help the Crows in Minrathous in that last gambit.

He's a mess, and he's selfish and ambitious and vicious and contradictory. But, I have a soft spot for characters like him and relationships like his and Lucanis's, y'know? Forgiving him and forcing him to work out his life after he's burned nearly every bridge he has is just really interesting to me, especially given how Lucanis is still full of hope and affection for him alongside the hurt. How do you rebuild after all that, you don't even have the devil-may-care breezy mask anymore because everyone knows better now. Figure out where he fits now in his cousin's life, because I do think—at the end of the day—the affection and relief is still there from both sides, under it all. Deeply buried possibly, for Illario, but there.

I think there's enough pieces here to suggest that he and Lucanis have a chance to actually figure it out, and to suggest that Illario might actually get his shit together and be willing to given opportunity, time, and patience. It's also a messy choice (and a huge risk), but I do personally like the idea of forgiving him. I like the messy, insane, dramatic narrative of it. He has potential, as Lucanis himself notes. I would love to see if he can rise to it, now that he's gotten all of this out of his system.

Or, at least forgive him because there's something funny about that and I want to see what else he does if given the chance. It'll probably also be a mess, but I'd love to see what messes he gets up to when he's not plotting against the person closest to him in the world. It'll be fun! But, sincerely, I do think he can get his shit together, and I hope and believe he wants to. It's the more interesting and fun story to me, for both him and Lucanis, personally speaking.

[redrose10]

This was a request for fake dating with Jungkook and prompt #40 I think I have always been in love with you for @yoongznme. I hope you like it!

< Lemonade >

Warnings: Hints of body insecurities

#40 “I think, I have always been in love with you.”

*******************************************************

“I’m sorry what?”, you asked them to repeat themselves for the third time still not believing what you were hearing. When your boss asked to have a word with you about a promotion you thought it would include a few extra responsibilities and hopefully a much needed raise because being a makeup artist for an award winning kpop group did not really pay as well as you’d think.

You never expected to be told that you would be pretending to be Jungkook’s girlfriend though. It was some crazy plan that the company’s PR team came up with after he had recently gotten some bad press over something dumb and out of his control but at the end of the day it was still bad press effecting numbers which effected profit.

They thought that it would be a good idea to make it look like he was a loving, sweet, devoted boyfriend who could do no wrong. Somehow or another your name got thrown in the mix because you yourself were nice, polite, and you had this kind of the good girl next door thing that they were looking for.

You were nervous to say the least. Jungkook was attractive, no one would deny that. He was also always very kind and thoughtful when you interacted and you definitely had a small crush on him but you were a professional and knew not to let your emotions get in the way of your work plus there’s no way a global superstar would ever actually want to date a struggling makeup artist.

However you agreed, though you had the suspicion you really didn’t have a choice anyways if you wanted to stay employed, and they told you to be back at the building tomorrow night at 8pm.

So you did just that. You were in the dress one of the stylist left for you and you’d done your makeup and hair. Jungkook was styled perfectly as usual and he smelled so warm and comforting as he gave you a hug, “You look really nice Y/N.”

“Thank you.”, you whispered hoping he couldn’t see you blush.

The plan was to drive over to a very well known hotspot for dinner. Idols frequented the place constantly so there was also a stream of paparazzi and fans trying to catch a glimpse.

When you arrived the amount of people shocked you. As soon as Jungkook appeared there were earth shattering screams and so many flashes of light you couldn’t see a foot in front of you.

“Y/N, just stay close behind me.”, he said taking your hand and helping you out of the car while making sure to block the view of the cameras so you could get out comfortably in your dress.

Once you were in view the screams got even louder although maybe angrier. The camera flashes definitely increased though giving you a headache. The bodyguards began to push through the crowd with Jungkook close behind, his hand tightly gripping yours as you tried to keep up.

Inside, the restaurant was significantly calmer which you appreciated. Jungkook sipped on his beer while you stuck to a lemonade.

“I’m sorry the company is making you go through this.”, he said finally after a bout of silence.

“It’s okay. They’re paying me quite a bit so it’s worth it.”, you chuckled not noticing the slight grimace on his face.

The rest of the dinner went smoothly. Jungkook was a great guest and you relaxed enjoyed hearing about his travels and all the funny stories he had, especially the one about Yoongi tripping and falling face first into a cake that Namjoon had decided to leave sitting on the living room floor for some strange reason. He showed you a picture of Yoongi’s face covered in frosting and you couldn’t wait to tease him about it when you saw him next.

After dinner the crowd outside had died down a little bit was still enough that you had to put on an act. Jungkook pulled you close against him as he took you outside and right into the waiting vehicle where he continued to hold you against him even as the car sped off. It sent a wave of emotions through you so you made sure to create a little bit of space between you both just to remind yourself that none of this was real.

It looked like the plan was working perfectly because the next morning there were several headlines questioning who was the cute woman Jungkook was photographed with last night. The fans were also loosing their minds over it, posting over and over about speculations and rumors. You did your best to try and avoid most of them because while a good chunk were generally in favor of the relationship there were still many, mostly fans, that were not happy about Jungkook possibly being in a relationship. This resulted in you seeing some hurtful words about yourself m before deciding to log out of all of your social medias.

The next several weeks were filled with much of the same. Various stages photo ops took place so that fans and photographers could catch moments between you both. When the rumors finally started to become out of hand the company released an official statement confirming the relationship between Jungkook and you, a sweet, down to earth makeup artist that he had fallen madly in love with. The media and fans lost their minds.

You went into this whole thing thinking it would be easy. You were getting a big payday to basically hangout with Jungkook and let your photo get taken. You didn’t expect for your crush to grow into being full on in love with him but it was hard not to fall. He was so incredibly thoughtful and sweet. He was always ordering you lunch or bringing you a coffee even when the cameras weren’t around. When your cat needed an unexpected emergency surgery he paid for it in full after overhearing you cry to one of your friends about how you couldn’t afford it. He was always telling you how pretty you looked or complimenting your clothes with a slight hint of a blush on his cheeks. When you were visiting a friend and missed the last bus and you called him as a last resort hoping he could ask the company to send a car he drove over an hour at 2am to personally pick you up himself while staying on the phone with you the whole time so that you wouldn’t be scared.

After a few months of this it was getting harder and harder to remind yourself this wasn’t real.

Up until this point things were going great. Your relationship was doing exactly what the PR team had hoped. People pretty much completely forgot about his previous scandal and were focused on how he was a sweet and generous boyfriend. His image had never been better.

Then there was an incident. Jungkook was very protective always keeping you close to him. Even when the bodyguards reminded him that they were there for your protection as well he still insisted on personally seeing to your safety.

So one morning you were set to board a flight to New York. Of course the entrance to the air port was packed full of paparazzi and fans all screaming and trying to get photos and videos of you two. The airport had put up barriers but with the amount of people all pushing and shoving some of the barriers got knocked down allowing the crowd to surge in.

Security did their best to surround you guys and get you through the crowd but they were greatly outnumbered.

Thanks to the loud noises and flashing lights and amount of people surrounding you it all became too much and you began to panic. You held onto Jungkook, squeezing his hand that was interlocked with yours to try and ground yourself and remind yourself that you were okay.

“It’s okay Y/N. I’ve got you. We’ll get through this.”, he said trying to comfort you.

The crowd surged forward again. Thanks to your blurry vision and panic you aren’t sure exactly what happened but somehow you tripped ending up on the floor. You were trying to get up fast before you got trampled on but you kept getting pushed and shoved down until you felt someone grab your waist and pull you up. Instantly you recognized the familiar cologne and tucked your face into Jungkook’s shoulder as he quickly pulled you through the rest of the airport.

On the plane where it was quiet and safe you started full on crying. You felt so silly but you couldn’t hold it in any more.The fear and anxiety became too much.

Jungkook came over handing you a bottle of water and some ice for your bruised knee. He rubbed soothing circles on your back as the plane took off, “It’s okay Y/N. It’s okay. You’re safe now. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I didn’t protect you.”

“It’s not your fault. You did everything you could.”, you whispered starting to feel a little better.

After a while you managed to fall asleep and take a small nap. When you woke up Jungkook was still sitting next to you. He was staring intently at your face.

“Stop looking at me. I’m always so ugly when I wake up.”, you chuckled feeling much better than earlier.

“Impossible. You are never ugly Y/N.”, he whispered.

He was fidgeting with his shoe lace. Something you had picked up on being a nervous habit of his.

“Hey Kook, is there something on your mind?”, you asked.

He waited a moment before nodding, “When we get back from New York I’m going to tell the company that we need to end this fake dating thing. I can’t do it any more.”

You felt like you wanted to cry again but you swallowed it down because maybe he thought you were too weak or why would he want to be with the girl who tripped an embarrassed herself and himself, “O-Okay. It’s up to you.”

“I just…I’m so selfish”, he chuckled, “I’m not going to keep putting you in danger though. I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you Y/N, especially if it was my fault. What happened back at the airport…that was a wake up call. I’m sorry I ever suggested this.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion., “What do you mean you suggested this?” You were under the impression this was all the companys PR team but now it seems like he had a part of it.

His cheeks turned a bright red before he ran a hand through his already messy hair, “Well I guess I might as well come clean now.”, he turned his body to look at you fully, “Y/N when the company suggested this fake dating thing I was against it at first. But then…then I thought maybe I could use it as an excuse to spend more time with you. I’ve always thought you were really cute and sweet and kind and I had a bit of a crush on you. So I convinced them to get you to be the woman I fake dated. I was too shy to ask you to hang out so I thought it was a way to spend time with you and get to know you better.”, he made eye contact with you for a brief moment and you could see the fear in them. He continued, “I think I have always been in love with you. I love you more and more every day.”, your heart was practically beating out of your chest at his confession. You tried to stop him but he continued, “And that’s why we have to end this. I don’t want you getting hurt because of me. You don’t deserve this.”

He looked as if he was about to cry and it made you want to just cuddle him and make everything go away. Instead you chose to grab his hand and hold it on your lap, “Jungkook I love you too. I have for quite a while. Honestly, I didn’t think you would ever see me like that so I thought this was all your company’s idea.”, his shoulders seemed to relax a little at your words so you went on, “I know that dating you comes with lots of hardships but I think the positives greatly outweigh those negatives and I don’t mind going through them. If…if you want to I would like to continue to date you, but maybe actually date and not fake date anymore.”, you chuckled.

That got a big smile out of him too which warmed your heart. “I would love to keep dating you Y/N.”, he nodded. You cuddled in closer to him spending the rest of the flight talking and laughing and enjoying each other’s presence.

When the plane landed he had already arranged for a car to pick you up straight from the tarmac so that you wouldn’t have to endure the stress of walking through the airport with him again.

When he finally made it out front and jumped into the car he smiled at seeing your face, “I missed you Y/N.”, he then leaned in and kissed you like it was nothing new. “You already got into the lemonade didn’t you.”, he chuckled after tasting it on your lips.

“Kook we were only separated for like ten minutes and of course I did. You know lemonade is my favorite.”, you giggled.

He leaned over and rested his head on your shoulder, “Doesn’t matter. It was ten minutes too long.”

You gave the top of his head a kiss as the car sped off to your new destination.

[vidavalor]

Oh, I agree with that for sure. 😊 People can and do think whatever they want! You've got a theory based on reason, @electricarpeggio, and we just disagree on bits of it and will have to wait to see what happens but some people are so far from the mark that I worry they'll really be unhappy with the results of The Finale because it seems like they're not even watching the same show the rest of us are.

On my end, it's more just curiosity and no small amount at awe at just how good this story with the themes of recognition is at pulling the wool over people's eyes to pull off this magic trick. There are some people who will literally ignore a lot of the details that they're putting out there to double-down on their own theories and it's certainly interesting to watch!

A friend of mine and I were joking (barely lol) that they could start 1941, Part 3 with an age-old, tv-cliched trail of accessories and clothes up the stairs leading to a reveal of them blissed out and smoking in bed and Aziraphale wearing nothing but Crowley's hat and someone, somewhere, would talk about how they didn't realize they were attracted to each other until 2023. They could actually start it with Crowley clearly fellating Mr. Fell and someone would write a whole theory about how it was clear that he was just looking for his missing pair of glasses down there. 😂

The whole show is no stranger to the art of prestidigitation and it is intentionally a bit of a jigsaw puzzle for sure but I sometimes wonder if people are just really unused to trusting their own eyes with things and that's probably a pretty reasonable response here since it's a queer romance and those are, sadly, still pretty uncommon. If you imagine that Crowley and Aziraphale were a straight couple for a moment-- just try really hard, I know it's basically impossible but just work with me here? 😂 If Good Omens were about a cisgendered, het couple, I'd be willing to bet that many of the same clues and scenes that some people overlook now might also be the very ones you'd be using to form a theory as to the history of the main couple's relationship. It's an interesting thought experiment, at least.

The thing I love most about Crowley and Aziraphale is that they're friends. Yes, they're also deeply in love, but first and foremost, they are friends. They love each other platonically, romantically, and everything else in between, and I hate when fanworks diminish that. They are not "more than friends". They are friends, plus lovers, plus family.

[unluckiestmember]

Hello ♥️ I hope I am not bothering you but can I Please please have a imagine for steb from arcane like a steb was completely caught off gaurd by the reader who is from the undercity and a tall intimidating individual. Reader who just walk up to him while steb was undercover in a bar and reader bluntly flirted at him and ended up dating him in only 5 weeks. I don't know I just found it a little bit funny.... This fish guy had me on a freaking choke hold!!!! Aaaaaaaaaa!!!!! His only their for a few minutes on screen and I am in love with him!

P. S not my first language and I hope it isn't too confusing.

Thank you! And have a wonderful day! ✨

Coming right up!

Steb x Zaunite! Reader

Characters: Steb, Maddie Nolen and Violet "Vi"

Warning: One cuss word, but outside of that SFW.

A/N: I'm surprised by how many people really love Steb! I was not expecting that, but I'm loving every second of it!

When Steb was sent on a mission to the undercity undercover to bring down an illegal business, he expected to get his job done.

And he did! But he didn’t expect to get a lover in the midst of it all.

When you first met him, outside of catching your gaze on a handsome fishman, you quickly realized he was a man of little words.

But what he lacked in dialogue he made up for in body language.

Especially when he blushed at your advances.

He could try his damnest to play coy with you, but there was no point.

The more you pointed out how beautiful his scales were and how his eyes held the ocean within them, the more he fell for you.

The attraction at first was mainly fueled out a lust, your time together only being colored by rendezvouses and sneaky links.

But before you both knew it,  lust turned into a genuine bond.

And the genuine bond turned into love.

In the beginning of your relationship, Steb tried to keep you at arms length from his duties in Piltover.

It wasn’t that he was ashamed of you- Not by a long shot!

He was just scared that if his friends and close acquaintances in the enforcer unit found out you were a Zaunite they could hurt you.

So the both of you kept your love under wraps, embarking on dates in secret.

It was fine at first, but after a while, Steb could tell it was killing you to watch other couples show their lovers off with pride while he had to walk on eggshells.

Luckily a pep talk from Maddie and the other enforcers in addition to yourself gave him the courage to declare without fear that you were his beloved.

Hell, even Vi is a huge fan of you two! She never would've pegged Steb to be with a Zaunite, but she loves the sight regardless!

Now the both of you hang around Zaun and Piltover, hand in hand, being the cutest couple in the twin cities.

Also the sexiest, but that’s a story for another time.

If you got any requests for Arcane, send them my way!

Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay hydrated and have a good day! <3

[asraindarkness]

If it’s okay, not necessarily BuckTommy but -

This season feels SO weird. It’s even weirder because for the first time they had a long time to plan it - they knew they were renewed for a Season 8 early into Season 7. So much so that, for the first time, they let the season end with a cliffhanger. Multiple, even.

And they they dropped all of them in a rushed and unsatisfactory way. If they didn’t want S7’s plots to continue on to 8, they could’ve ended them in S7. Never bring Ortiz or Gerard back. But instead, they went with the oddest choice and created a nice cliffhanger, only to disappoint pretty much everyone.

But for me it’s more than that. It’s also the way the characters don’t always feel like them. You’re telling me Buck never went into a deep dive about queer history or rights when he discovered he’s bi?? that Maddie would make the making men gay comment?? that Chimney wouldn’t talk to Hen about the possible second pregnancy?? I could go on and on.

And the dynamics also feel… broken. We barely have friendship moments, at all. Buddie this season feels weird, like Eddie doesn’t really want to be bothered by Buck. Hen and Chim are barely communicating. The firefam doesn’t have moments outside of emergencies (save that montage of them asking Bobby for help).

It feels like the writers have stopped knowing how to write these characters and their dynamics. And for me the found family that I fell in love with at first watch feels gone, you know?

i’ve been saying this since s6!

like aren’t they tried of keep writing buck the same all the time??? he doesn’t get promoted on his job that he’s fucking good at it, they had a kind of story about it when buck wanted to be captain in s6 and then bridge fall happened and buck was a fucking powerhouse in it and i thought they finally gonna show buck more that just a young goofy firefighter that thinks on his feet, show them he’s a leader but then they dropped it.

he doesn’t get into lasting relationship and is always chasing one and apparently now he’s gonna forget his character’s growth and gonna be right back in s1. it’s like buck’s always gonna be the boyish bratt they made in s1 when he was 25/6 not a 33yo man!

eddie can’t fucking move on for 6/7 years and tries constantly to make a mom out of everything woman he dates but now a confession and a random priest apparently healed him like he was possessed not fucking mentally traumatized!

madney are most of the times are dealing with doug that comes out like random jump scares. maddie had 2 stories last season both was about her trauma with him. yes you can’t heal from something like that for a long time or possibly never but for god’s sake that woman raised his brother as his own child when she was still a child herself and what did 911 do with this part of her? NOTHING

and you don’t need me talk about hemren’s endless suffering

and where is athena’s children???

it’s been a mess since s6 but now it’s wors cuz tim starts writing 5 minutes before they start shooting. i said it 100 times the only thing good about s7 was buck’s bi arc. they make a big deal out of problems and solve them in most childish ways in the same episode!

i know it’s basically a soap opera but ffs it’s not a fantasy. they pulled dead wife no.2 cuz it’s a soap but in what word a child can land a plane?

honestly after i reed that tim rewatched the whole thing before writing for bi buck i was sure the show gonna back to its root where chim and hen are besties and hen and athena spend time together etc etc, but apparently all he got from that is abby had a boyfriend named tommy

[faretheeoscar]

Commander Dameron & Captain Fluff

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Notes: This post contains a baby Poe Dameron story and a Baby Poe bot inspired on my writing to play with!

No warnings, all fluff *badum tss*, slight angst at the end, this story happens roughly around a year before Poe loses his mom 😥, the first order wasn't stablished at this point of the star wars story, the remanants of the empire were still around.

A/N: English is not my first language so I'm sorry if there’s any mistakes.

Word Count: 2k~

Poe had been busying himself for the past hour before sleep time, getting ready for his next mission, his room, or, as he liked to call it, “the rebel command base.” Was mostly a cozy space with toys, books, and blankets, but today, it had transformed into a high-tech cockpit in the heart of the galaxy. Poe’s bed had become the control panel, and every pillow around him was a part of his imaginary X-wing.

At the center of it all was Poe himself, 6-year-old pilot extraordinaire, ready to take on the remnants of the Galactic Empire. Wearing his favourite pilot pyjamas, and little pilot helmet, he had by his side his faithful co-pilot, Captain Fluff—his tooka doll, that was made by none other than the person he loved the most on this galaxy, his mother, celebrating the colours of the rebellion, orange and white, and also Poe’s favourites. Together, they were ready to save the galaxy.

“Alright, Captain Fluff!” Poe, with his little proud leading voice turned his head around to give his doll a serious nod. “Systems are a go!” He tapped the edge of his bed with imaginary buttons, making a few beep and bloop sounds with his mouth. Then, gripping his “steering stick”—a makeshift cube out of carton he painted with the help of his dad—Poe prepared for liftoff.

“Engines roaring!” he muttered, making a deep, growling noise in his throat to mimic the sound of his ship’s thrusters. “Powering up!” He twisted his stick to the right, leaning his whole body to the side as if he were really taking off. “And... we’re airborne!”

Swooshing into the sky, Poe imagined the mission ahead of him. “Captain Fluff, TIE fighters up ahead!” he shouted with urgency, looking at the far corner of his room where he could almost see the enemy ships closing in on them. “The Empire is catching up, but they don’t stand a chance against us!”

Poe leaned left, pretending to dodge a volley of imaginary lasers. “Hold on tight, Captain! Shields up!” He could feel the intensity of the battle as he twisted the controllers with all his might, making “vroom vroom” sounds as he imagined himself manoeuvring through space. “We gotta go faster if we want to get outta here, send all the power to the back thrusters” he said, his voice becoming loud and energetic as he stood up and bounced on his bed.

His gaze narrowed as he spotted a particular “enemy” ship. “Look! There’s the lead TIE fighter!” He pointed at the empty spot in the room, eyes widening with excitement. “That’s the one that’s been causing all the trouble! Let’s take it down, Captain!”

With a determined and loud “pew pew!” Poe pretended to fire at the enemy ship. He cheered, bouncing excitedly on his knees as he added a few more sound effects. “Direct hit! We got ’em, Captain!” He grinned, reaching over to high-five his tooka doll little paw. “Great shot, partner! The Alliance and New Republic are counting on us, and we’re not letting them down!”

As Poe continued his daring space battle, fully immersed in his mission to take down the Empire, he didn’t hear the quiet footsteps approaching his room. His father, Kes, stood in the doorway, arms folded with an amused smile, watching his son’s serious little face as he dodged imaginary lasers and manoeuvred his X-wing around the “battlefield.” Kes stayed silent for a few moments, letting Poe play and have the thrill of his heroic mission for a little bit longer.

But eventually, Kes cleared his throat and spoke up. “Looks like the galaxy’s safest it’s been in a long time with you around, Poe.”

Poe gasped, spinning around on his bed with wide eyes, not expecting his dad to be standing there. “Dad! Did you see? We just took down the whole Empire fleet!” He beamed, holding up Captain Fluff as if to prove his achievement. “Captain Fluff and I—we’re the best team in the Alliance!”

Kes chuckled as he walked into the room, taking in the "cockpit" Poe had set up on his bed—pillows arranged like seats, a makeshift steering stick, and, of course, Captain Fluff the tooka doll stationed by Poe's side. He nodded approvingly, hands on his hips. "I see you've got things all set up here. And I’d say you and Fluff are two of the finest pilots out there. But even the best pilots need their rest if they want to be ready for their next mission." He raised an eyebrow, giving Poe a knowing look. "So, what do you say, Captain? Time to head back to base?”

Poe’s face grew serious, his smile fading as he clutched his steering stick a little tighter. “Dad, I’m the Commander, remember? Fluff is the Captain,” he corrected, puffing his chest out proudly.

Kes held up his hands in surrender, trying to hide a smile. “My apologies, Commander. Didn’t realise you’d been promoted, but like I said, it's time to rendezvous and call off the mission for today.”

He clutched his makeshift steering stick a little tighter, shaking his head. “But, Dad! What if they come back? We have to be ready!” He glanced at his tooka doll with a serious expression, then back up at his dad. “The galaxy’s counting on us!”

Kes smiled and sat down at the edge of the bed, looking at Poe with soft eyes. “And the galaxy will still be here when you wake up, I promise. The best pilots know when it’s time to refuel and rest up for the next big fight. That’s how your mom does it, you know.”

Poe’s eyes lit up at the mention of his mom, Shara. He glanced down thoughtfully, still holding his steering stick. “Really? Do you think… one day I’ll be as good a pilot as Mom?” he asked, his voice soft, the bravery in his expression wavering for a moment as he looked up at his dad.

Kes placed a reassuring hand on Poe’s shoulder. “I think you’re already showing a lot of the same bravery she has. You’ve got a good heart, Poe, and you’ll do great things, just like your mom. And who knows? One day, maybe you’ll lead the fight yourself, but then again it's time to shut the engines.”

Poe’s face brightened with pride, although he wasn’t quite ready to let go of his mission yet. He looked at Kes, brows furrowing, the Dameron stubbornness making an appearance. “But what if they need me tonight, Dad? I’m ready to go back out there!” 

Kes chuckled, reaching out to gently take Poe’s “steering stick” from his hands. “I’m sure Captain Fluff can handle the night watch while you rest,” he said, tucking the tooka doll into the small box of the “cockpit controllers” as if assigning it a special duty. “And besides, if you don’t sleep, you won’t have the energy to take down twice as many TIE fighters tomorrow.”

Poe looked at Captain Fluff, considering it for a moment. He still felt a pull to stay up, to be the hero, but he couldn’t argue with the idea of being even stronger for tomorrow’s missions. With a little sigh, he glanced back up at Kes. “Alright, I guess he can keep patrol,” he said, reluctantly, puffing air out in disappointment, as he allowed his dad to take his helmet off of his head and pull the covers up around him.

Kes smiled, and ruffled his son's sweet curls, finally letting him settle into bed. “Alright, Goodnight, Commander Dameron.”

Kes got up to leave the little command centre, but before he reached the door Poe called out to him softly, “Dad?”

“Yes, Poe?”

Poe hesitated, looking down at his hands now nervously bunching up the covers towards himself, then back up at his dad. “Do you think… do you think Mom’s gonna come back soon?”

Kes felt a familiar pang in his heart, one he tried his best to hide, he had promised himself he would never preoccupy his little 6 year old with his own fears, the fears that came with an uprising battle ahead, with the remnants of the Empire getting stronger, the whispers of a new order taking form... 

Walking back to Poe’s bedside, he knelt down, meeting his son’s gaze. “I know she’ll be back as soon as she can, buddy. She’s on an important mission, just like the ones you have here.” He reached out to cup his son’s rosy cheeks, which had warmed up as his little bottom lip trembled at the uncertainty of the whereabouts of his mother “But, hey, cheer up flyboy, I just know she misses you just as much as you miss her, know that she’s probably thinking about you too.”

Poe nodded softly, his big, searching eyes fixed on his father’s face, letting the words sink in. He’d been missing his mom so much, but he remembered the promise he’d made to her to stay strong while she was away. Taking a deep breath, Poe steadied himself, swallowing down the tears that threatened to spill. He was determined to be brave—just like her.

“Do you think she’d be proud of my training?” He glanced around at the “command center” he’d set up in his room. “I wanna show her I can be just as good as her when she gets back.”

Kes’s face softened, a deep pride and love shining in his eyes. He reached out, gently taking Poe’s hands on his. “Poe, your mom would be incredibly proud of you. You know why?”

Poe tilted his head, curious. “Why?”

“Because you’re brave, just like her. And you’re training hard, doing your best, every day. That’s what it means to be a great pilot—and to be a great person, you have natural leadership skills.I think you’re making her proud right now, and you’re also making me proud, son.” Kes poked the dimples on his face making Poe giggle.

Even if Poe’s little face lit up and a warm blush came to his cheeks again thanks to his father’s praise. He still looked reluctant to settle down. He squirmed a little under the covers, glancing at his makeshift X-wing cockpit, and the controllers on his bedside table as though still itching to jump back in and fly one more mission, just to be ready when his mom would come back.

Kes leaned over to turn off the small BB-Unit shaped lamp on Poe’s nightstand. But just as he reached for it, Poe’s little hand shot out, stopping him.

“Wait!” Poe stopped him quickly. “Don’t turn it off.”

Kes raised an eyebrow, hiding the little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Oh? And why’s that, Flyboy? I thought we were already past that era of sleeping with the lights on.”

Poe blushed again, but he quickly thought of an inventive excuse to give his dad and sat up a bit, his voice lowering as if he were letting his dad in on a classified mission detail. “It's just in case I need it for an emergency, you know? What if there’s, like… an important mission? I might need a quick escape plan. And BB-8’s light… it’s, you know, trusty, also it guides Fluff’s flight.”

Kes let out a soft laugh, clearly charmed. He nodded with an expression of mock seriousness. “Ah, of course. I’d hate to leave the best pilots without proper emergency lighting.”

Poe grinned, glad that his dad "had bought" his story, settling back against his pillow. “Exactly. BB-8, Fluff and I have to have everything ready.”

Kes reached over, giving Poe’s small hand a reassuring squeeze. “Then I’ll leave BB-8 also on duty for the night. Just make sure you get some rest too, Commander. ”

Poe’s face softened, his eyelids beginning to droop as he nestled further under the covers. Kes tucked the blankets up to his chin, then leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead.

“Goodnight, son,” he whispered. “Sweet dreams, and may the force be with you.”

“Goodnight, Dad,” Poe murmured, a sleepy smile forming on his face. He glanced once more at his makeshift cockpit, BB-8’s warm glow casting a soft circle of light over his room. “May the force be with you too.”

With one more affectionate pat on Poe’s head, Kes rose to his feet. But just as he reached the doorway, Poe called to him one last time.

“Dad?”

Kes turned back, smiling gently, this kid was never gonna go to sleep. “Yes, Poe?”

“When Mom gets back... will you tell her I’m ready to be her co-pilot?”

Kes’s smile grew, and he nodded. “I’ll tell her that, Poe. Now get some sleep, my little hero.”

Kes gave one last look at his son, as he stepped out and quietly closed the door, leaving Poe dreaming under the steady, watchful glow of BB-8 and Captain Fluff.

Poe’s eyes grew heavy, but before he drifted off, he turned around and looked one last time at Captain Fluff, whispering to his little buddy.

“Tomorrow, we’ll be ready for Mom.”

Yes, I know, slighty angsty at the end, but Poe is a mama's boy and I couldn't help myself!

HAPPY POEVEMBER!

Thanks for reading! Reblogs and comments are kindly appreciated!

@winniethewife, @silvernight-m, @midgardian-witch, @ominoose, @femmeanonymelives

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

I'm in love with this series!! Jay Todd, my beloved. Just, ah, the world building is so good, and the FEELINGS! Don't even get me started on the smut cause I was fr fanning my face. I talk about my fav parts below the cut!

Jay bursts into the bar, door hitting the wall with a crash, and oh fuck she forgot her helmet at home so she’s gonna have to do this as Jay, without the weight of the Hood’s legend behind her. Taking a deep breath she squares her shoulders and swaggers in.

Plsss, I'm swooning already. Love that she doesn't need the helmet to get shit done.

Jay goes to take the seat next to you but shoulder slams into a body. She turns and raises a single disdainful eyebrow that she knows for a fact has made grown men cower before. “You’re in my seat,” she says, low and bored.

Ah, I'm grinning! You can fr feel her confidence through the screen

Jay very conspicuously wipes the front of her leather jacket with a bar napkin. Looks him up and down and smirks. “I think your conversation was over 30 seconds after you opened your mouth. I bet a lot of things are over in 30 seconds with you,” she tells him coolly.

OOOHHHH!! Get him!! It's over for me. She has my heart and I'm buying her anything she wants

You grow more flustered at that and Jay rolls her eyes at Cala’s interfering. She lays a hand on your bare forearm to get you to stop tearing the napkin in your hands to shreds. “You’re not in any trouble honey,” she says, voice low and soothing.

!!! I've got heart eyes for this fr

Jay’s just so goddamned tempted to press her thumb into the hollow underneath your eyes, see if that’s enough to make the gathering tears of relief spill over. Wants to see your puffy bitten lips wrapped around her fingers rather than your straw. Time just gets away from under you two, Jay too enthralled with the way your hands move as you tell a story, you too drunk under her attention to bother looking at the time.

No notes. I love when two people are equally enthralled with each other

And Jay, Jay doesn’t really have a phone besides a collection of burners but for you she’ll keep one on her. “Could always use another friend,” she says slowly, hands her phone over to you anyway.

aw that's sweet but also only burners my girl? I worry for her lots

Your ensuing enthusiasm sets to right the last of her worries that you’d only offered out of obligation and she sets about monopolizing as much of your free time as she can get away with. Takes you to the movies, to museums, to lunch. Lends you her sweater, her umbrella, her helmet. Actually thinks about buying a second one with how much use you’re getting out of hers.

I've decided that they're married, your honor. Just, ah, I love how quickly they entwine into each other lives! Just finding your person and knowing you want to be with them all the time, do everything and anything with them.

How she’s come with the image of your tear-stained face, fingers buried in her cunt. It’s fine! Jay’s fine. Eventually she’ll learn to stop lusting over her darling best friend who looks up at Jay with such sweet trusting eyes, unaware of what an awful lecher she is.

Oh, it's so fine. They're absolutely just friends and there isn't anything more to it at all and they definitely don't see each other anything but platonic besties

“Oh what’s this, a party?” you ask, hair falling down the nape of your neck in a way that has Jay itching to brush it aside and kiss your spine.

I mean, I'd let her

“You hate the Jimmy Choos,” Jay reminds you. “Always complain they pinch your feet.” “Duh,” you tell her, pushing yourself up. “But they make my legs look like sex so I’m wearing them.” Jay has to swallow a couple of times at that, lost in the last time you’d worn them out clubbing and dragged her with you. Your legs had looked like sex, miles of long yummy skin only ending at your barely there mini dress.

AHH, I'm losing it over this interaction!! and all of it done in each others arms!! INSANE!! It really shows how comfortable they are with each other. I just adore friends to lovers

Your fingers come to her throat and slowly undo the buttons there until only a single button or two above her waistcoat remains done up. Satisfied with your work, you spread the material flat under your palms, right over the swell of Jay’s breasts. “I think you look really nice just like this,” you confess to her. Jay can barely breathe as she says “Fuck the tie, never liked ‘em anyway.” Your slow smile is worth it.

PLEASE! I'm drooling. Reader is better than me cause I would not have made it out of her apartment

Jay is secretly, privately glad that you don’t notice Dick’s eyes lighting up with interest in you as you come in to view. She’s very careful to stamp that light out with a scowl and pantomiming slitting his throat. He’s all charm and smiles when he’s introduced to you though Jay still stomps on his toes for good measure.

I actually love Jay's and Dick's sibling antics

“You just told Mr. Texas Oil Man that you’re here on a date,” Jay says, voice tight and frustrated at having to spell this out for you. “And we–” she gestures sharply at the two of you “–are not on a date.” Your face falls, voice thin and hurt. “We’re not?” you ask softly.

Misunderstanding of century!! But I am eating it up!!! Angst is my kryptonite

“You– you thought this was a date,” she says slowly. “You got all dressed up and wore the heels you hate because you wanted to look good. For me.” You hug yourself tightly and nod, gaze fixed on a spot on the floor.

owwww. The heartbreak. The humiliation. I wanna sink my teeth into it

“Yeah, Jerry,” Jay says, not sure where this is going. “Fuck that guy.” “Gerry short for Geraldine!” you practically howl. “I’ve been practically throwing myself at you ever since, I thought you were just being nice and not saying anything to hurt my feelings,” you yell at her. “I thought– I thought you were finally giving me a chance tonight.” You pant, chest heaving as you reveal this more vulnerable truth.

GERRY! just, oww!! All of this is ow. Fr the pain reads so real and I'm devouring every line

And fuck. Jay’s not about to let the best thing that ever walked into her life just walk right back out. Not without a fight. Eating up the distance with her longer legs, she reaches out and gently clasps your wrist. Turns you around and pins you the door by it, forces you to look up at her with wide teary eyes.

Swooning. This angst is so sick and twisted (but in a good way, I swear)

“Why don’t you tell me what you were hopin’ for with your one big chance, tell me how tonight was supposed to go.” Jay nuzzles the side of your cheek, inhales the sweat and desperation rolling off your skin.

CRUEL and UNUSUAL. I'll take fifteen

Swiftly Jay drops to her knees, so fast she barely recognizes the pain of it. Hooks your leg over her shoulder and starts rucking up your devastating dress to expose your panties. Moaning you scrabble at the door, her hair, anything to keep you upright and balanced.  “These,” she snarls, then licks a fat stripe across the thin fabric of your black lace panties. “I’ve been dreaming of getting my hands on them since I first saw them.” You shiver, bury your hands into her thick hair for balance.

Plssss, chekhov's gun but it's the underwear I knew were gonna come back up. I looove it. And Jay being just as desperate has me feral!!

Spells her own name against your clit, brands her claim on you into your flesh as you wobble and whimper. Slick runs down her face as she grinds her nose into you.

hehe, The way I am giggling and twirling my hair

Jay bites down at the sensitive inner skin of your thigh and suddenly has to drink down the slick of your second orgasm. So her baby girl likes a little pain with her pleasure, she’ll have to remember that for next time.

I think I forgot how to blink reading this. my jaws on the ground

Pulls your skirt back down to hide the utter wreckage she’s made of your panties. Jay scrubs at her chin with her hand, then licks down all the sweet remaining slick she finds there. Grins felinely as you moan at the sight.

!! They're nasty and I love them for it

“I’m taking you home and I’m fucking you until either I pass out or the sun comes up.” “Okay,” you say, voice just verging on a whine. “That sounds better, actually.”

eee I'm obsessed with this!! The way I want to sink my nails into it and never let go. I looove they're dynamic fr. Sunnie you're actually feeding the Fem!Jason enjoyers soooo good 🥰💙

A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out

Part 1: Unexpected Faces in Familiar Places

fem!jason todd x fem!reader summary: jay makes a new friend, now if only she could be something more... tags: sexual harrassment, threats of violence, idiots in love, flirting, swearing, sexual tension, semi-public sex, cunnilingus, fingering rated explicit (mdni) | wc: 4.7k a/n: enjoy! i've been having a really shitty week (even before the election) so i scrapped my original intention to only post once it was fully written and decided to just share this with you all

Jay Todd has the shittiest day to cap off the shittiest week in what feels like forever. Her ribs ache from a hit on Monday that’s still not fully right and she spent most of the day chasing down one of her accountants that had the sheer fucking nerve to try and steal from under her nose. Her knuckles are bloody, she’s on the verge of a stress headache, and all she wants is to drink her goddamn drink in peace. Apparently that’s too much to ask for because she gets a call from Cala down at one of her bars about out of towners harassing the guests and now that just won’t do at all.

Jay bursts into the bar, door hitting the wall with a crash, and oh fuck she forgot her helmet at home so she’s gonna have to do this as Jay, without the weight of the Hood’s legend behind her. Taking a deep breath she squares her shoulders and swaggers in. Zeroes in on the two chucklefucks have that cornered a poor girl sitting at the bar. Notes the way she’s hunched over and pulling down the hem of her skirt to hide her skin from lecherous eyes. Cala buzzes around the scene trying to divert their attention away from poor little miss unlucky but it doesn’t work.

“–m not alone,” Jay hears you say as she strides towards the bar. “I’m waiting on a friend.” 

“That so,” the taller of the two men leer. “Well she can just join us too. Plenty of room for more.” The shorter man makes a crude gesture at his crotch and Jay sees red.

“There you are!” She calls out, shoulders past the men without even acknowledging their presence. “Sorry I’m late, traffic was a real bitch. Did you already order our drinks yet?” You look up at Jay with gratitude and something suspiciously like tears shining in your eyes. Fuck. You’re pretty.

“No I– I didn’t know if you were planning on driving so I just waited,” you play along. 

Jay goes to take the seat next to you but shoulder slams into a body. She turns and raises a single disdainful eyebrow that she knows for a fact has made grown men cower before.

“You’re in my seat,” she says, low and bored. The man’s face starts to go a horrible shade of red that clashes terribly with his hair.

“So you think you can just butt into a private conversation, bitch?” He snarls, spittle flying.

Jay very conspicuously wipes the front of her leather jacket with a bar napkin. Looks him up and down and smirks.

“I think your conversation was over 30 seconds after you opened your mouth. I bet a lot of things are over in 30 seconds with you,” she tells him coolly.

He opens his mouth to respond, vein pulsing in his forehead but the cock of a shotgun stops him. Cala, blessed Cala, had finally had the distraction she needed to grab the shot gun from under the bar and she is using it to maximum effect.

“Out!” She thunders, waving the shotgun in the men’s faces. “Out and don’t you ever come back. This is one of the Hood’s bars, we’re under her protection and there’s gonna be hell to pay for this.”

Enraged the larger one goes to yell back but the shorter one grabs at his shoulder. Whispers at him to look around at all the hostile faces, the other regulars getting to their feet and cracking their knuckles. Tails between their legs the two nuisances scamper out.

Jay nods at Cala and she calls out “Next round’s on the house!” to the cheers of the room.

Job taken care of, Jay goes to leave when a hand around her wrist, just catching her under the hem of her jacket, freezes her in place.

“Wait!” you call. She turns to look at you properly, the wobble of your lip and the shortness of your skirt from where you’re no longer tugging it down. “Please? I just– I’m worried they’ll be waiting outside for me. I was supposed to meet a date here but they bailed on me and now I have to wait for the next bus to come. Would you stay with me for a bit? Please? I’ll– I’ll buy you a drink for the inconvenience.” And well, Jay always was a sucker for a damsel in distress.

“Sure,” she says, slinging herself lazily back into the bar chair. “It’s no inconvenience but I’ll take that drink. Whoever he is, he’s gotta be mad for standing a pretty girl like you up.”

“Oh um,” you fluster at her words. “Thanks?”

Cala sets down Jay’s usual order for when she’s driving in front of her and refills your drink. Waves off your fumbling with your wallet with a “It’s on the house, chérie. Our apology for the bad night. Besides,”  she nods at Jay “the Boss Lady would not let you pay if you tried.”

You grow more flustered at that and Jay rolls her eyes at Cala’s interfering. She lays a hand on your bare forearm to get you to stop tearing the napkin in your hands to shreds.

“You’re not in any trouble honey,” she says, voice low and soothing. “Just needed a little help, that’s all. Now my name’s Jay and I own this little establishment. Why don’t you tell me a little something about yourself too?”

You stutter and start through your own self-introduction, mascara long eyelashes fluttering at all the attention. Jay’s just so goddamned tempted to press her thumb into the hollow underneath your eyes, see if that’s enough to make the gathering tears of relief spill over. Wants to see your puffy bitten lips wrapped around her fingers rather than your straw. Getting you to talk about yourself seems to work though, familiar territory slowly evening you out. You’re surprisingly witty when you’re not flustered, someone fun to have a conversation over beer with. Time just gets away from under you two, Jay too enthralled with the way your hands move as you tell a story, you too drunk under her attention to bother looking at the time.

A stray notification catches your attention, interrupts your story about how this bar wasn’t even in your bottom five. You roll your eyes at the sender name.

“Jerry,” you answer Jay’s inquisitive look. “Apologizing for standing me up, for all the good that’ll do.” With a flourish you tap at your screen, smile and say “Blocked.”

Jay can feel the corners of her eyes crinkle up in return, simple joy and approval for you cutting the trash out of your life. Not that she’s really entitled to an opinion on it. Your smile lasts a half second longer before suddenly descending into panicking, fumbling out your phone and chanting no no no under your breath.

“I missed the last bus,” you breathe out, eyes wide. Jay’s brain stutters at that, there’s no way you’ve been talking together for four hours. Cala catches her eye and jerks her head up at the big clock hanging over the bar. Fuck. It really has been four hours.

Jay knocks back the last of her beer and stands, extends a hand out to you to help you hop off the bar stool that’s just the wrong side of too tall. Even in your heels Jay’s still got quite a few inches on you.

“C’mon,” she says. “It’s my fault you were out so late, I’ll give you a ride home.”

She leads you outside to where her bike is parked, your palm still in hers.

“I don’t have an extra helmet so you just take mine okay?” She says, putting it on you.

“We’re– we’re going on that?” you squeak out, surprise rendering you docile.

“Yep,” she answers, already straddling the bike, thighs flexing. “Hop on and hold on tight.”

Jay more feels than hears your scream as she revs the engine and takes off, corners maybe just a little too fast to be anything other than showing off. Too soon she pulls up at your front door and already she mourns the feeling of your arms wrapped around her middle. She gives you a hand to help you off the bike again and nearly buckles at the brief glimpse of the black unlined lace panties she sees under your skirt as you swing your leg over the bike. The two of you stand there facing each other, moment stretching out until a car backfires a few blocks over.

“Well, I guess I should get going, “ Jay tells you reluctantly.

“I’ve got work in the morning,” you respond, still not moving. “Wait! D’you want my number or something so we can do this again? Not the first bit obviously, but maybe drinks? Maybe coffee next time?”

And Jay, Jay doesn’t really have a phone besides a collection of burners but for you she’ll keep one on her. “Could always use another friend,” she says slowly, hands her phone over to you anyway. Grinning, you see her off into the night, taillights dissolving into darkness.

Jay calls first, asks about coffee with too much casualness in her voice. Your ensuing enthusiasm sets to right the last of her worries that you’d only offered out of obligation and she sets about monopolizing as much of your free time as she can get away with. Takes you to the movies, to museums, to lunch. Lends you her sweater, her umbrella, her helmet. Actually thinks about buying a second one with how much use you’re getting out of hers. Bitches with you about assholes at work – not that she gives you the full story – and bemoaning the state of customer affairs. Makes you dinner at her apartment and makes a spot for herself on your couch. Worms her way into every corner of your life without regret because you’d tell her if her presence was unwanted. Right?

Leave it to Jay to come back from the dead and still fall in love with a straight girl. Dick teases her about how far she’s willing to bend over backwards for ‘just a friend’ and Jay has to show her teeth and snap back that at least she has some. Has to cover up for the fact that her sanity is hanging by a goddamn thread thinner than that single string that had tied the open sides of your top together that one afternoon, revealing bare skin and the hint of a breast if you leaned just right. The way she almost walked into a wall when she realized you weren’t wearing a bra the first time she came over to your place. How she’s come with the image of your tear-stained face, fingers buried in her cunt. It’s fine! Jay’s fine. Eventually she’ll learn to stop lusting over her darling best friend who looks up at Jay with such sweet trusting eyes, unaware of what an awful lecher she is.

A gala invitation has Jay wishing she could shoot lasers with her eyes and incinerate it. Her eye twitches with annoyance and you snatch it up out of her hands before she can stop you.

“Oh what’s this, a party?” you ask, hair falling down the nape of your neck in a way that has Jay itching to brush it aside and kiss your spine.

“A stupid one,” she answers, not really paying attention.

“But you’ll have to get all dressed up for it! Please, please can I come over and watch you get ready? You never get dressed up,” you pout.

Even with your whining and pouting, Jay can’t help but think she’d still have a better time at the gala with you by her side to distract her from pointed glances and whispers. She sighs. Wait.

“There’s a plus one on that invite,” she tells you nonchalantly, studying your face in her peripheral vision. “You could come if you want, get all dressed up too.”

You stiffen at the question. “You really mean it?” you whisper, hardly daring to breathe.

“Course, but only if you want to,” she offers. You squeal, clutch the envelope to your chest and tackle her.

“It’s short so I’ll probably have to rent a dress and oooh I need to think about makeup, maybe a bold lip? Oh! And I can have another excuse to wear the Jimmy Choos...” you babble in her arms.

“You hate the Jimmy Choos,” Jay reminds you. “Always complain they pinch your feet.”

“Duh,” you tell her, pushing yourself up. “But they make my legs look like sex so I’m wearing them.” Jay has to swallow a couple of times at that, lost in the last time you’d worn them out clubbing and dragged her with you. Your legs had looked like sex, miles of long yummy skin only ending at your barely there mini dress. You prance around the room pulling down dishes for dinner and Jay sighs, melts back into the couch cushions as she listens to you chatter a mile a minute about how excited you are.

Jay’s really, really regretting her impulsivity by the time the gala rolls around a few days later. In all her excitement about not going alone for once, she’d forgotten that this meant she’d be going with you. With you, all dolled up and mouth-wateringly gorgeous.

You knock at her door earlier than she’d expected from you when a fancy event is involved and has to do her very best not to drop her jaw on the floor. Gorgeous green silk pools around your breasts in a daring cowl neck, the fabric clinging to your curves, draped to exaggerate them. Skims the plush sides of your hips before falling straight to the floor, a daring slit revealing the warm bare skin of your leg ending in those heaven sent Jimmy Choos. Jay stares, knows she stares for a beat too long but there is quite literally no force on earth that could tear her away. You start to squirm under her attention, still standing half in her doorway.

“That bad, is it?” You laugh self consciously, start to cover your cleavage with your hands. “I knew it was too much.”

“No, no it’s just enough,” she rasps, standing back to let you in. You brush past her so close she can smell your perfume, can tell you’d broken out your special occasions scent in the nice glass bottle. “I just need to fix my tie and do my hair and then we can go.”

“Do you need the tie?” You hum, stepping into her space. Grabbing a hold of one of the loose ends, you tug it out from where it’s tucked under her collar and drape it over the couch. Your fingers come to her throat and slowly undo the buttons there until only a single button or two above her waistcoat remains done up. Satisfied with your work, you spread the material flat under your palms, right over the swell of Jay’s breasts. “I think you look really nice just like this,” you confess to her.

Jay can barely breathe as she says “Fuck the tie, never liked ‘em anyway.” Your slow smile is worth it.

“Can I do your hair too?” You ask shyly.

“Don’t see why not, I was just going to do a ponytail,” Jay shrugs. Delighted you push her down onto the couch and start pulling bobby pins out of your purse. “Wait did you plan this?” She asks.

“A girl should always be prepared for the best outcome,” you tell her primly as you stand behind her and finger comb her riotous hair.

Quickly you separate out a deep side part and Jay memorizes the feeling of your hands in her hair. Hands twisting and pinning, you’re done in only a few minutes, handing her the little mirror out of your clutch to admire your work. Softly Jay touches your work, the way you’ve slicked back one side of her hair and made the waving curly mess look artistic and purposeful.

“Thank you,” she says, making eye contact with you in the mirror. She means it, means it for more than just fixing her hair but for everything else you’ve done since stumbling into her bar and her life all those months ago.

“It’s nothing,” you tell her, hands suddenly occupied with the mechanism of your purse. “We should probably get going, right?”

Jay drives the two of you to the venue in a really nice car you’ve never seen before. She waves away your questions with a tight, “My dad won’t even notice it’s missing.” She parks at the end of the red carpet and the doors haven’t even opened yet but you can already see the camera lights flashing. You look at her, suddenly nervous because you’d vastly underestimated how important this event was. She turns to you and smiles, grips your hand over the car console.

“Hey,” she says, all softness. “Just stick with me and you’ll be fine. I’ll head off the vultures, you just hold onto me and enjoy the canapes, okay?”

You nod, and then suddenly she’s opening up your door, hand extended to help you out. The lights are blinding, flashing so fast the afterburn never gets any time to dissipate. Pasting on a smile you cling to Jay’s strong arm, rock solid even under all her suit layers. Paps shout and scream at you to look their way and you can barely hear them over one another.

Eventually the two of you make it through the front doors of the hotel and you gasp like you’ve been drowning. Rubbing your shoulders Jay moves to cover you, cuts off the private moment from prying eyes that seek and skitter.

“Is it always like that?” You gasp. Fighting to regain your balance.

“Unfortunately,” she says with a rueful smile. “But that’s the worst of it over, now we can really enjoy the night.” Gallantly she offers you her arm and you accept it gratefully, her elbow brushing up against the swell of your breast as you walk.

She introduces you to the night’s hosts – her family – with a whispered apology in your ear. Jay is secretly, privately glad that you don’t notice Dick’s eyes lighting up with interest in you as you come in to view. She’s very careful to stamp that light out with a scowl and pantomiming slitting his throat. He’s all charm and smiles when he’s introduced to you though Jay still stomps on his toes for good measure. She doesn’t know what possesses her to, but she wraps a proprietary arm around the small of your back as she steers you around the room. Helps you to crystal flutes of champagne that make your nose twitch at the carbonation and warns you off the most disgusting canapes.

Jay has just chased down the waiter carrying the mushroom and cheese quiche bites you’d fast declared your favourite when the two of you get roped into a very stilted conversation with some of the fat cats the Waynes are currently trying to drain dry, for charitable reasons of course. She’s tuned out the conversation while she piles all the best looking bites onto a plate for you, horrifically uninterested in whatever Mr. Harold J. Carson, esquire had to say about the Texan economy. She cottons on to something being wrong as your hands tense up around her arm and your laugh gets ever more brittle.

“That’s a very kind offer Mr. Carson–”

“Harold, please,” the great mustached walrus harumphs.

“–Mr. Carson,” you bravely soldier on. “But I’m here on a date and I hope you’re not implying that I’m the type of woman to two-time someone.”

He turns an ugly shade of puce and sputters at the implication, society matrons chuckling behind their glasses at his terrible blunder. Sensing an opportunity, Jay grabs you by the arm and starts leading you away.

“I do think our presence is needed by my family elsewhere,” she says, vowels Diamond District clipped. Her grip around your fingers is strong, tighter than it’s ever been as she leads you down a hallway and into an unused meeting room. Her breaths are coming heavy as she drops your arm like she’s been burned, deposits the plate on the empty table. Jay knows if she speaks now, her voice will shake and she will not have that. FUCK. Fuck, she was supposed to have this under control by now. She’s not your keeper, she’s not gonna stand between you and happiness but fuck it hurts to be used like a ticket into someone else’s bed.

“Jay,” you ask cautiously. “Are you okay? I really wasn’t going to take him up on his offer, I’m telling the truth, promise.”

“Why’d you come with me as a friend when you were already invited as someone’s fucking date?” Jay spits out, unable to contain her jealous anger and pacing to try and burn it off.

“But you invited me,” you answer her, voice trailing off in confusion.

“You just told Mr. Texas Oil Man that you’re here on a date,” Jay says, voice tight and frustrated at having to spell this out for you. “And we–” she gestures sharply at the two of you “–are not on a date.”

Your face falls, voice thin and hurt. “We’re not?” you ask softly.

Jay has to stop pacing because wait what.

“You– you thought this was a date,” she says slowly. “You got all dressed up and wore the heels you hate because you wanted to look good. For me.” You hug yourself tightly and nod, gaze fixed on a spot on the floor. “But you don’t even like women?” And it’s less a painful fact she knows now and more of a question. 

“We met because my date stood me up!” you exclaim.

“Yeah, Jerry,” Jay says, not sure where this is going. “Fuck that guy.”

“Gerry short for Geraldine!” you practically howl. “I’ve been practically throwing myself at you ever since, I thought you were just being nice and not saying anything to hurt my feelings,” you yell at her. “I thought– I thought you were finally giving me a chance tonight.” You pant, chest heaving as you reveal this more vulnerable truth.

“Oh,” she says stupidly, suddenly forced to re-contextualize her entire life for the past few months. You dash an angry hand at your tear eyes and turn to go.

“It was my mistake,” you tell her voice thick with emotion.

And fuck. Jay’s not about to let the best thing that ever walked into her life just walk right back out. Not without a fight. Eating up the distance with her longer legs, she reaches out and gently clasps your wrist. Turns you around and pins you the door by it, forces you to look up at her with wide teary eyes.

“Oh sweetheart,” she croons and you shudder. “Bet you’ve been feeling like I’ve been treating your real raw lately.” She cups your face in her hand, smoothes her thumb over the high plain of your cheekbone. “Why don’t you tell me what you were hopin’ for with your one big chance, tell me how tonight was supposed to go.” Jay nuzzles the side of your cheek, inhales the sweat and desperation rolling off your skin.

“We were– we were supposed to dance,” you confess, head falling back against the door. 

“We can still do that,” she says, curling her fingers into your hair and pulling. She grins at your swift inhale.

“We were gonna dance an’ then, then you were gonna take me home.” You breathe out, pupils blown wide with hunger.

“Was that it baby girl?” She asks. “Playing it a little safe for your one night fantasy, weren’t you?” Jay lets go of your wrist to rest her hand on your shoulder, large hand pressing down on your collarbone.

“Was gonna kiss you goodnight,” you whimper, shivers running across your skin. Slowly, so slowly you can make out the ticking seconds hand of the big clock on the wall, Jay leans in and carefully slots her mouth down over yours. Sucks gently on your bottom lip before releasing it with a sigh.

“Like that?” Jay asks. “You were just hoping for a sweet little kiss on the mouth?” Her own breathing is ragged.

“No–o,” you gasp. “Was hoping– was hoping you’d kiss a little lower too.”

Swiftly Jay drops to her knees, so fast she barely recognizes the pain of it. Hooks your leg over her shoulder and starts rucking up your devastating dress to expose your panties. Moaning you scrabble at the door, her hair, anything to keep you upright and balanced. 

“These,” she snarls, then licks a fat stripe across the thin fabric of your black lace panties. “I’ve been dreaming of getting my hands on them since I first saw them.” You shiver, bury your hands into her thick hair for balance.

“They’re my– my lucky date underwear,” you gasp into the air. 

“And you were hoping to get lucky tonight, weren’t you baby girl?” She coos up at you.

Biting your lip, you nod. Jay sets about tearing your underwear to pieces with her teeth. Your thighs tremble around her ears and she slams your hips back down against the door. Spreads your lips open with calloused fingers, presses a light kiss to your clit in greeting before she starts making out with your pussy. You howl and sag, trusting her to take the full weight of you as your knees turn to jelly.

Jay eats you out with enthusiasm and she eats you out with experience. Does this thing with the slick thrusting muscle of her tongue that has you gasping and begging for more. Can feel the heel of your shoe digging into her back, urging her own, begging her to fuck you harder. Spells her own name against your clit, brands her claim on you into your flesh as you wobble and whimper. Slick runs down her face as she grinds her nose into you.

Sucks your clit, hard, just a hint of teeth as she spears you open on a thick finger. Twists and curls it against your slick wet walls, lets herself affectionately get acquainted with your cunt. Scissors you open with two fingers just to watch your head bang back against the door, eyes shut and tears streaming down your face. Sets an uneven rhythm with her fingers and tongue that has you moaning and trying to ride her face for more. Finger fucks you with wet, squelching vigour as you quiver and shake, walls tightening up as you careen towards climax. Starts putting pressure on your rim with a third finger just to tip you over the edge of it all, pleasure making you stupid. Jay bites down at the sensitive inner skin of your thigh and suddenly has to drink down the slick of your second orgasm. So her baby girl likes a little pain with her pleasure, she’ll have to remember that for next time.

Gently, she takes your trembling thigh off her shoulder and places it back onto the ground. Pulls your skirt back down to hide the utter wreckage she’s made of your panties. Jay scrubs at her chin with her hand, then licks down all the sweet remaining slick she finds there. Grins felinely as you moan at the sight.

“Hoping for a little something like that, honey?” She teases.

Vigorously you nod, head bouncing back and forth like a bobblehead, words still fucked out of your brain. She holds out a hand to you – not the one that’s just been buried knuckle deep inside you – and clasps your hand in her own.

“C’mon, let’s go home then,” she tells you airily, leading you back through the maze of the building.

“But what about the party?” you ask, mascara still smeared around your eyes.

“I don’t care,” Jay bites out. “I’m taking you home and I’m fucking you until either I pass out or the sun comes up.”

“Okay,” you say, voice just verging on a whine. “That sounds better, actually.”

“Good,” Jay smirks. “Because it wasn’t a question.”

series masterlist | part 2

[crowleysgirl56]

IT’S FINALLY HERE SQUIRRELS!

OMG I’ve been biting my nails for weeks on how he is going to react. Already from the thumbnail we can guess that he is not happy and has reacted the exact same way as us.

So let’s dive into my highlights of his reactions. As always, under the cut to avoid spoilers. Here we go.

- Already from Danny’s opening monologue he’s guessed exactly how most of this episode will go in terms of plot beat and story structure. But it is clear he doesn’t know about the 90 minute finale.

- Love how Danny’s immediate response to Crowley’s heaven disguise is “You’ve only made him hotter!” Funnily enough he mentions “it looks like he invented whiskey”. Funny considering David Tennant did that add for whiskey…

- Danny is everyone when he heavily sighs when Maggie accidentally invites the demons in.

- Danny finally gets his payoff about the fly being the key.

- About Beelzebub and Gabriel. He so casually says “I kinda want them to fall in love and I’ll murder anyone who disagrees with me”. Yeah, well…at least ONE angel and demon couple got to do that and go off together! I also love how within 6 minutes he is 100% invested in their relationship.

- “David Forgettit. Azirawho”. HOW DARE YOU SIR!

- Good Omens fandom: deep dives into why no one recognises The Metatron when he’s in his corporal form. Danny when the Metatron enters the books shop: Who’s this guy? Is this God? Did they recast God?! (Crowley then says the last time he saw him he was a big floating head) Oh it’s Zordon! Proving that, yep, it is THAT simply to trick everyone, no deep dives necessary.

- Danny points out Muriel is holding the Crow Road, but then doesn’t try to deep dive into why that’s important. And yeah, if you didn’t know what that book is it doesn’t really mean anything, but looking back at that scene, it is framed so deliberately that it HAS to mean something.

- And now we finally get to it. Danny’s ENTIRE journey of reacting to the final fifteen. I could devote an entire post to everything that he says and does. The clutching of his chest and chair, the pleading of David Tennant to stop being such a great actor, his joy and heartbreak and yelling of “THEY KISSING!”, the depths of despair of wanting to start up smoking, to getting really drunk even though it’s 11am, and to becoming addicted to cocaine. WE. ARE. ALL. STILL. THERE. MY FRIEND!

- It’s funny how Danny went from being such an advocate for Aziraphale this entire time to just holding his head in his hands exclaiming “what the fuck I can’t even, I can’t even, why would you do that?” right at the very end.

Danny’s whole reaction is interesting in that it’s such an immediate reaction, he doesn’t have the luxury like us who have spent the last year and a bit overanalysing everything with a fine tooth comb. Because it’s almost like, maybe that is how we should be reacting? Love to hear everyone’s thoughts on this and his reaction.

And that’s the end. Hopefully he will react to the final 90 minutes once it’s released. What a journey. Now, I really feel like I need to rewatch the entire show over again.

[seeker-ophelia]

Ophelia’s Review, Part Three: The Lore

Man. Thank you to @senseandaccountability ’s post for sparking this brainwyrm because I was at a loss for words on how to start this post, and I could not put my finger on what was actually bothering me.

Again, let me just say, emotionally, this game wrecked me. I enjoyed it. I (am probably one of the few who) liked the combat. I liked the companions (basic as they are). And I liked the story. I liked the locations. I liked the quests and the loot system and the companion banter. But.

The Lore.

[Part 1:Emotion]   [Part 2:The Dragon Age System]

If you’ve read my Part 2 Review, you know the end of it is actually its own little fic-let on the Veilguard realizing the veil needs to come down.

And I’m just going to straight up copy a paragraph from @SenseAndAccountability ‘s post (I strongly recommend you go read it, its fantastic).

Replaying really emphasizes how incredibly little the game convinces me of its original main quest - to prevent Solas from doing his ritual. This is a problem as a long-term player because for three games we’ve had build up for a great crescendo tackling the overarching themes of the (restrictions and oppression of) magic, of tears in the Veil, of religious tyranny and oppression based on myths about the Black City and the temptations of flawed humans, we’ve seen and deconstructed the elves quite a bit, we got started on the dwarves and in DAI your Inquisitor can openly ask Solas if it wouldn’t be better if the Veil came down because then spirits wouldn’t be separated from the living and risk becoming demons. Cole, whose function is to reflect the plot, talks endlessly about the old songs wanting to be sung again, about how it hurts to be cut off from part of yourself, how the templars feel it, how the mages feel it, how the elves and the dwarves feel it. The Veil as a prerequisite for life has been deconstructed, the Fade demystified, the gods have mostly fallen. The Veil as an actual wound inflicted on this earth has been presented as a theory and not been convincingly rejected by the narrative. 

Let’s recap, just a little bit.

In Origins, we are introduced to the Dragon Age World. Its politics, its magic physics, the races, and its religion. We are introduced to the concept of the Chantry and the Templars and the Circles (*wiggles my eyebrows at you). We learn about demon possession, and about spirits in the fade. And maybe most importantly, we are introduced to the concept of The Blight.

The unstoppable, indiscriminate zombie-plague that sweeps Thedas once a century or so. And maybe more importantly, thanks to the sacrifice of the Grey Wardens, how to stop it.

In 2, the Thedas lore is even subtler. We were introduced to Dalish Gods in Origins, but because of Merrill we get a little more. We start to become curious about the Gods of the race that has been subjugated and enslaved throughout the common Ages. We learn the tense political atmosphere surrounding the Templars and the Mages, and the Chantry’s weakening hold on the politics and structure of Southern Thedas as a whole. We learn about slavery in the north, about the basics of the Qunari, and we have a Terrorist (potentially our lover), hit the religious organization in our city.

In Inquisition, we learn all about the magic. We learn about the fade, about the veil, we learn all about the Elvhen. We pick a side in the Mage/Templar war, we learn about this strange process of Tranquility, the only power templars have to control mages (thanks to Cassandra), and we also learn what that control costs (thanks to Cullen).

And because of Solas, and Cole, we learn about spirits. About how the Veil turns them to demons on their passing into the real world. About how all they want is to stay true to their purpose. They are simple, pure things, and while there are demons, of course, its not all bad in the fade as maybe we might have believed before. After all, Solavellan’s first kiss happens in the fade.

In Descent, we learn about titans, about memories, about songs, about lyrium, about isatunoll.

In Trespasser we learn about why the Titans even matter. Orbs. Power. Greed. The creation of the Veil, and what it really means.

*Insert Kronk Oh-Yeah-Its-All-Coming-Together.gif*

We had 10 years to scheme. 10 years for theories. 10 years to datamine.

So what did we learn in Veilguard?

Well, in the grand scheme of things, nothing.

We have theories confirmed. Which Evanuris hat belongs to who, how the blight was created, how the blight is spread, and how the blight is controlled (kinda-not-really). At least, we learn how the Evanuris are doing it.

What did we learn that was NEW?

We learned about the Morn Watch (but I mean, did we really?) Emmerich has a good relationship with wisps and spirits. We learn about his distinction between a spirit and a soul.

We learned *a little* more about Qunari culture.

We learned it was a blood magic ritual that was holding the veil up, tied to the life force of the Evanuris, now tied to Solas.

We learned about the Evanuris’ Dragon-Thralls and the strong connection between the two, a connection strong enough to get their souls out of Solas’ Fade Jail.

We learned that the Evanuris could not only control The Blight, but had relics to give to others (the Venatori) to control blighted things. We learned their greed for power was so vast, so consuming, they were willing to Blight the world to achieve it.

But we fought an archdemon, in Origins and in Veilguard. We see and know the terror and horror of the Blight.

This makes any action Solas commits understandable, and even necessary. Would we have done anything different? If my leaders were bent on blighting the world, wouldn’t I go to extreme lengths to stop them? Compromising my own morals, dignity, and values to do so?

I think I would.

Having such a terrible evil, having such an indiscriminately bad thing, The Blight, leaves absolutely no room for nuance. No room for complexity. Just good versus bad. Destroy the bad thing at all costs.

So we do. Wham, bam, Evanuris dead.

And the only thing stopping us from tearing down the Veil, is the Blight.

Because Solas tells us that the Blight is in there too.

But, he made a new Prison for the Evanuris, one without a veil, before Rook & Co. interrupted his ritual. Why can’t we move the blight into there and still tear down the Veil?

What is stopping us at this point?

Solas says: Thousands would die

(You’re trapped in your regrets)

This is why you had to use me to escape the prison. It’s made from regrets. And you’re trapped in yours.

You cannot understand -  

Destroying everything won’t erase your mistakes.

You have a chance right now to save the world. Bind yourself to the Veil and stop it from falling.

2. (Do this the right way)

You’re right, you do need to make up for the damage you’ve done, but breaking the world again is the wrong way to do it.

Letting the veil collapse –

Is what YOU want. Making amends isn’t about what YOU want.

You have a chance right now to save the world. Bind yourself to the Veil and stop it from falling.

3. (This won’t help anyone)

Who does this help? A lot of people are going to die… So you can fix something they don’t even see as wrong.

It is not just people, spirits –

Will be destroyed when you do this, too. Won’t they?

You have a chance right now to save the world. Bind yourself to the Veil and stop it from falling.

Listen. I can't believe I'm about to say this, but there's more to Dragon Age than Solavellan.

This, in the end, was an emotional decision. The decision to leave the veil up was tied to emotion, and not logic.

So, what does all this mean?

Well, for players new to the series, nothing. They were always fighting for the Veil to stay up. The opposite of what the antagonist wants, pretty much. Easy enough to follow along.

But for returning players? Lavellans who stood in Fade-Haven? Players who walked Vir Dirthara? Mages who made the Descent, and saw how horrible it was for the dwarves to be sundered from their dreams, and made the horrifying connection that the Veil did the same to them?

Trespasser Solas: You must understand, I awoke in a world where the Veil had blocked most people’s conscious connection to the Fade. It was like walking through a world of Tranquil. (We aren’t even people to you?) Not at first. You showed me that I was wrong… again. That does not make what must come next any easier.

When I learned about the rite of Tranquility in Origins, I was disgusted. The first thing that popped into my head was lobotomization. They are one and the same to me. Turning a person into a husk of what they were. Separating them from their emotions. From hard emotions, yes, from things that are not easy, even painful, but at the cost of themselves.

We walk with Harding through her decision to, although the Titans are angry, and what was taken from her people was great, not reunite Titan and Dwarf because…

Lace: The story of their end is the story of our beginning.

Mythal releases Solas from his journey to reunite Elvhen with the Fade.

Harding releases angry Titans from their quest to reunite with the Dwarvhen.

And so the Veil stays up. The Titans stay sundered.

But… at what cost?

Lest we forget, it was the sundering of the Titans from the Dwarves that CREATED THE BLIGHT. The Titans created the blight as a weapon to infect the Elvhen as punishment for their death, their tranquility.

This Tranquility Ritual, be it in the form of keeping Mages from the fade, be it of Titans or of Elvhen, is WRONG.

I’m a Blue-Collar Journeyman, and we have a turn of phrase we use with old fellers who don’t want to change the way they do things.

Just because you’ve been doing something for a long time, doesn’t mean you’ve been doing it right.

You can do something for years, and still be doing it wrong.

And both Lace and Rook decide that this is the way things have been done, for AGES. We’re not going to change now.

And I’m just… Solas. As John Travolta playing Vincent Vega in Pulp Fiction, confusingly standing there, looking around with my arms out.

Did we learn nothing from the Lessons of Origins? Nothing from the Lessons of Inquisition?

Maintain the Status Quo? That’s the answer?

At what cost?

One of my favourite lines in in my Part 2 Post is this;

Veilguard, is shallow. The essence is there, beneath it's Veil, pressing and bursting at the seams to escape, but is being held back by a gentrification of Thedas.

This decision, the decision to keep the veil up, is shallow. Its basic. Its Easy. It is pre-masticated, lunchable drivel. It was spoon fed to us in easy dialogue and groupthink.

What about every other thing we learned in the other games of Dragon Age?

If Weekes et al. want me to forget about how horrible the Rite of Tranquility is, they’re going to have to come out with a hell of a companion novel between now and DA5, because this makes no sense to me.

I ask you. If sundering Titans created The Blight, what did sundering the Fade create?

Or should I say,

If separating Dwarvhen from their Memories created the Blight (out of Titan anger),

What did separating Elvhen from the Fade create?????

Lets talk about Ser Dave.

If you read my part 2, you’ll know that Ser Dave is my name for the ‘?????’

Not only is it so insulting to my intelligence to call something ‘?????,’ because of course then I’m going to pay more attention to it, but its so lazy. Let it introduce itself to Rook and say “call me the wicked witch of the west,’ ‘a concerned party,’ ‘I am the Batman,’ ‘I am No One,’ ‘I am Daivd Gaider,’ ffs.

An I excited at a new villain? Yes. Am I happy to learn there was a shadow organization pulling the strings behind all of my villains throughout The Dragon Age? Abso-fucking-lutely not. Am I happy Southern Thedas, Treviso, and Minrathous are essentially razed after the rise of the Evanuris? No.

Nothing we did in any of our previous games mattered. Nothing I did mattered. Ser Dave was there the whole time, controlling, balancing, guiding, whispering.

I was doomed to fail from the start.

The moral of the story in Veilguard is to not assume the burden of others actions:

And yet its Ser Dave and the Nazgul Band that assumes responsibility for my villains?

What in the Actual Fuck?

So what is going to happen in 5? I don't know. Will I find true agency? How do we have a villain worse than a God? How do we live in a Tranquil’d world, knowing the alternative? How do you bring back the dark, heavy, realness of Thedas, after the gentrification of Veilguard? After blanding Thedas, making it easier for more palates, needing to feed the EA Machine.

For the record, I have yet to complete my second playthrough. I have yet to find all the codices. I have yet to get all the companion banter. I have yet to play as every race. I have yet to make every decision. And if Inquisition taught me anything, its how one little piece of information can change everything. So, for the record, this whole post could be wrong.

In fact, I hope, and pray, that I am missing a big piece of something in Veilguard. That I just haven’t found it yet. That one little thing that’s going to shift my worldview. And I’m going to play until I find it.

Because these messages Veilguard is sending? They’re too contradictory. Too opposite to be coincidence. Too Different to simply be Bad Writing™. I said that Veilguard is a Tranquilized Version of what DA4 could have been. Inquisition, 2, and Origins, were too deep, for Veilguard to be this shallow.

And… Maybe its copium, but I’m kind of hoping that it was on purpose.

[ooftale]

This game, god I love this game

ok so Im copying and pasting the rant for the game from my Insta under the cut + the alt vers, PLEASE Im just expressing my love for the game in it but it's too late for me to rewrite the whole thing

I wish Tumblr would let me post with music like Insta,,, this is a zillion times better with the "Niko and the World Machine" song gah

God this game is a masterpiece though, OK if u wanna read more do it under here:

OKAY here's the rant!!

oh my god i fucking LOVE THIS GAME SO MUCH. I SWEAR. I CANNOT FUCKING EXPRESS. MY LOVE. FOR THIS GAME. Almost a year has passed since my first One Shot Post (doesn't apply to Tumblr, last One Shot post here is more recent) and almost a year has passed since my first playthrough

It wasn't really a blind playthrough, iirc i already knew lots of stuff about the story, ending and even the solstice run itself, too, it was already part of my interests to an extent, but I didn't know or remembered the details, and experiencing it myself still felt like a fully blind Playthrough (gotta again thank my shitty memory too), and was it freaking beautiful,,, plus, i finished it around xmas time, which is like my fave period of the year, so!! I still remember i got a photo of the TV while I was playing, there were gorgeous purple lights, both from LEDs and both from the game, since it was becoming dark outside, with little xmas lights around,, gah this game holds such a special place in my heart, I don't think any other game captured my love as much as this one, SURE, Im a big lover of many MANY games, and this one isn't even the first indie rpg i ever got into (hello Undertale and deltarune), and while those are very special to me as they're some of my first interests, OneShot is just a whole another type of special, a special special if you will

And recently I've seen my friend play it blind for the first time, and as I was (Awesomely) backseating, I got to basically relive it, in a way, and I always get a little phase for it after reseeing content of it, so here I am, drawing one of my personal favorite portions of the game! Sorry for the unusual type of rant I did this time, but I just. Argh. This game, dammit

Also fun fact, so many things about this game, from the 2014 version, to songs, to imagery, to scenes, freak me so much out or make me feel so weird I feel like I need to puke

Gotta love it

[aihoshiino]

chapter 166 thoughts

As of chapter 166, Oshi no Ko has finished a roughly four-and-a-half year run started back in 2020. While there's some speculation about an epilogue or some extra content in volume 16 when it drops, this is where the main story ends. And you know what that means!!!

OSHI NO KO HAS OFFICIALLY ENDED WITHOUT ADDRESSING OR ACKNOWLEDGING THE FACT THAT RUBY KISSED HER BROTHER IN CHAPTER 143

please understand that this is FUCKING BOGUS

I'll probably do a longer post on this subject specifically, but my main critique of 143 when the chapter dropped was that while I liked the individual beats in it and I was really glad to see Akasaka finally addressing this tension bubbling underneath Aqua and Ruby's relationship, the immediate swerve away from showing us the aftermath of that kiss felt to me like an admission that the story was going to needlessly draw this out even more. Now that the story has ended and we can see that moment had literally no impact on the plot or even the character dynamics, I'd like to revise that statement - it feels like an admission of compromise. It feels like crumbs thrown to AquRuby fans to tempt them to keep reading and to stir up the waters of the ship wars, so people would keep reading and stay invested in the manga right to the very end. But most of all, it feels deeply disrespectful to both Aqua and Ruby as characters. Rather than exploring their feelings and giving both of them interiority and complexity in relation to incest or even just fucking acknowledging that the kiss had happened and letting their dynamic evolve, the series just memory holes the entire event and asks that you do too. Rather than letting Ruby have any development whatsoever as pertains to that relationship or, god forbid, let a female character move on romantically from the male lead, the series ends with her feelings so up in the air that I literally could not tell you what she thinks of Aqua by the time he dies.

ANYWAY… FINAL CHAPTER. BREATHES OUT VERY HARD.

I really can't believe it's taken us until the final chapter to actually deal with Ruby's grief over Aqua lol. We got a snippet of it last chapter but it was so brief that it really just felt like a tease. I also just think it's kind of bizarre that we're spending this little time on Ruby having feelings about Aqua's death to the extent that I have no idea how or when she found out about it.

It's also kind of hard to feel particularly strongly about Ruby's grief when the chapter doesn't really bother to explore it all that much. It's just a montage of Ruby quite literally Screaming, Crying and Throwing Up while Akane dispassionately narrates it all. The art also doesn't really help in terms of connecting with the emotions at play - I usually really like Mengo's expression work and the way she depicts extreme emotions but this all just felt like of… I don't know how else to put it. Goofy??? Is that an insane thing to say about Ruby grieving her brother???

Idk, something about both the panelling and just the extreme on-the-noseness of Ruby, again, literally Screaming, Crying Throwing Up while she's wearing a Burning cosplay Just In Case You, The Audience, Didn't Get It only for her to abruptly be done crying with no exploration or insight as to what's going on in her head that allows her to move forward.

Honestly, this is kind of the issue with everyone in the cast. The resolution is just sort of "Aqua died and we were sad about it but then we stopped being sad". I know what the story is trying to go for here - it's trying to express that even when you're in pain, life goes on and so you have to find a way to go on with it. But the result is that we spend all this time oogling at their pain without spending equivalent or even meaningful time on their recovery process.

It feels both excessive and undercooked at the same time and I'm left with the same icky, voyeuristic feeling I got from Aqua's funeral last chapter. This should be the point in the story at which we empathize with Ruby the most, but she remains a frustratingly distant figure right to the final pages. Part of this is an unfortunate consequence of Akane's narration directing these final chapters meaning that we're hearing about Ruby from an outsider's perspective and thus don't really see what's going on in her head… but if I can be frank, this has been an issue of Aka's with Ruby in particular basically nonstop since chapter 123.

As others & myself have noted, despite the absolutely catastrophic downward spiral Ruby is in at that point, Aqua revealing himself as Gorou basically flips it all off like a switch. There's some mild lipservice paid to the idea that Ruby is just using her dependency on Gorou to prop herself up and it's pointed out that the issues that contributed to her breakdown haven't actually been resolved - but none of these issues are ever even acknowledged again, let alone resolved. So, functionally, that reveal does fix all Ruby's problems in the space of a single chapter and the result is, again, that we spend multiple chapters gourging on depictions of Ruby's absolute rock bottom only for her to ping back to normal like a lightswitch. As such, the depictions of her pain feel less like explorations of Ruby's interiority and more like voyeuristic oogling at Ruby's misery and trauma and the effect is that the resolution to it all is both unsatisfying and a little gross. The result is that it feels like Akasaka is just indulgently mining the imagery of cute girls suffering because it causes simple thoughts neuron activation but doesn't respect these girls enough as characters to build them back up.

It doesn't help that this is basically the in-universe excuse for Ruby's career further skyrocketing. Instead of Ruby becoming a star on her own merits as the story keeps insisting she was supposed to, she's artificially buoyed by the public's morbid fascination with her tragedy. If I was feeling charitable towards the story right now, I would say this is an avenue of intentional critique but… well, I don't feel super charitable about the story right now lol

I WILL say that the one part of this chapter I did just uncomplicatedly like was the beat of Mem trying to suspend activities (presumably in the wake of her grief for Aqua) only for Kana to basically immediately explode into her room and help her get back on her feet. It's a beat that would've been much more effective if we'd, you know, seen it, but I otherwise enjoyed it and I thought it was sweet.

But. pbbbbtttt. I guess I can't talk around it any longer… let's get into the Dome concert.

To start things off on the immediately worst note possible, Akane describes Ruby performing at the Dome as being 'everyone's dream', including Aqua's. I'm reminded once again of the strange turn the story took in insisting that um, actually, performing at the Dome was totes Ai's dream all along (even though she literally didn't give a shit even a week before she was due to perform there herself) so Ruby performing there is fulfilling that dream for her!!! and I can't help but wonder if this abrupt shift in focus is an attempt to make readers forget what Ai's actual dream was - to see her beloved children grow up happy and healthy. Hell, it wasn't even really Aqua's dream, until the story suddenly had to try and convince us that his entire purpose for existence was to kill himself so Ruby could be an idol for slightly longer than she would've otherwise. The only people whose dreams she's textually fulfilling are Ichigo and Miyako and Ruby herself, but…

Honestly, is this really Ruby's dream anymore?

Who is Hoshino Ruby? What does she want? Why does she want it? These should be the very least of what we can concretely say about not only a protagonist but a character who has become a central figure of the entire story as Ruby has, but with the way Oshi no Ko has warped and distorted her, I find myself increasingly unsure of what the story wants her to be or how I should answer those questions.What does Ruby feel about Aqua? Was she still in love with him? Had she moved on, romantically? Was she still waiting for a response to her confession? Did she finally realize it was probably kind of shitty to respond to her brother going "lowkey wanna kms" by sticking her tongue down his throat? I Guess We'll Never Know.

This extends to whatever the fuck Ruby's relationship with idols and being an idol is. Almost the entirety of Ruby's time in the story has been spent reiterating over and over that Ruby cannot just be an idol who imitates Ai and that to truly shine, she needs to step out of her mom's shadow and shine in her own way. Ruby even literally tells Kana in no uncertain terms in 137 - "I'll be a star in my own way. I won't be like Mama."

While this has always been the text of the story, as I've pointed out before, the actual art with which Ruby's idolhood depicts her basically just as Ai 2.0. It relies so heavily on mining the imagery of Ai's charisma and personality as an idol and using them as the measure of Ruby's success as an idol that Ruby essentially has no visual or conceptual identity of her own as an idol. She's just Ai, But Arbitrarily Better, For Reasons The Narrative Fails To Actually Establish But Hopes That You Just Accept Anyway. This was always kind of annoying, but now that friction seems to have been resolved by… just making her Ai 2.0, But Arbitrarily Better (etc, etc) in the text as well. The fact that we're given no further insight as to Ruby's feelings and continue to just have Akane Explain Ruby's Character Arc to the camera also doesn't help.

All this combines to make the Dome concert and the final few pages feel exceptionally cold in a way I really don't think was intended by Akasaka. Yes, that splash page was nice and flashy but… I just felt nothing. I have no idea if or why Ruby cares about this. And even though the Dome concert has been hyped up through the entire story as the peak of Ruby's achievements as an idol, I feel no sense of accomplishment in her finally being there - not just because her journey to it was basically sneezed at us across two panels, but because it just feels hollow as a victory lap for Ruby. Again, she feels so distant and abstracted as a character that I can't bring myself to feel very strongly about her good or bad.

I think the perfect encapsulation of this are the final four pages of the story. Ruby's words here are very clearly intended to be a callback to Ai's words to Gorou in chapter one but as @all-of-her-light pointed out in our initial discussions of the chapter, Ruby very much does not have an equivalent to Ai's conclusion that she nevertheless wants and values the opportunity to find personal happiness and fulfillment outside of being an idol. Are we supposed to believe that simply being an idol is all that Ruby needs to achieve a similar degree of happiness and fulfillment? Is there no more to her than that?

I've seen a lot of people interpret this ending as exceptionally bleak and, as usual, gleefully predicting Ruby's immanent suicide because her beloved oniichansensei isn't around but this is indulging in, if you'll allow me to be frank, some pretty transparently ship-motivated flanderization. Despite what certain sections of the fandom would like to believe, Aqua and Ruby's lives, past and current, have never revolved around each other to the exclusion of every other relationship in their life. Ruby has a massive support network of people who love and care for her and actively want her to get back on her feet. I can one hundred percent believe that she does not need Aqua in her life to be happy and content.

The issue is that we don't see enough of Ruby to understand that ourselves. Again, she has become such a distant figure with so little insight into what she's thinking and why that this ending is basically a Rorschach test in which you can interpret basically whatever the hell you want or assume because we have so little canon basis to support or debunk our assumptions.

and yes. don't think i didn't see them. it IS both grimly hilarious and weirdly tonally appropriate for this ending that ruby has a bunch of oshi goods of ai and aqua including their fucking autographs set up to say goodbye to every day.

AND…… WE'RE DONE!!! THAT'S OSHI NO KO, BABY!!!! well, technically, there's going to be a 20 page extra chapter in volume 16 but I don't see it being big or substantive enough to meaningfully change my feelings about the ending so… I guess we're leaving it here. Damn. Feels crazy to be done with it.

I'll probably do a bigger post down the line about my thoughts on the ending as a whole but in terms of just How This Chapter Made Me feel, I guess the word is just… meh! It's definitely not an ending I like and I think the execution is sloppy and rushed but I also just don't really have the energy to feel angry about it. Maybe that's sad in its own way but tbh… I still really love Oshi no Ko! I still find it engaging and I find the characters I enjoy rewarding to talk about. I like the artistry of the anime adaptation. I don't blame anybody else for being so turned off by this ending that they're done with the series but for me, I like what I like about OnK too much that this ending could retroactively ruin it for me. Whatever else happens with the OnK franchise, whatever directions the anime and live-action take, this will always be the series that gave me Ai and the Hoshino family and. look at me. look at what she's done to my brain. could I really ask for anything more than that?

That being said, I'm definitely not done with discussing the series! I have fics to write (including a VERY exciting large scale project lined up with some friends), my Ai analysis post to finish and I also want to do a re-read of the series and finish my anime rewatch. I'll be here to discuss Oshi no Ko as long as I have things to say about it and as long as you guys will have me! Despite how the series ended, I've had a genuinely wonderful experience in the fandom and I really don't want to let go of the little community we've built together just because the series is done. I'm Ai's fan for all eternity!!!